What Brothers Share
by Strangerine
Summary: Delsin sometimes wonders why he has the ability to leech other powers. Following Reggie's death, Fetch and Eugene have to look after the Bannerman as he takes a closer look at past, his family, and what he thought he knew. Hero!Delsin, set just after the end of inFAMOUS: Second Son. Cover Art belongs to madaboutvampires @ DeviantArt.
1. Blood And Water

_Reggie Rowe knew fear. He was a cop, after all. He'd been through a few tough situations. Been hit, stabbed, punched, shot. Sometimes he worried, perhaps for vanity's sake, that he'd end up with a few too many scars. But, for all his fistfights and gunfights and worries, he couldn't remember ever being afraid that he was going to die._

_And yet. Delsin's face - that terrible, pained look - hurt Reggie more than the ice crystallizing on his cheeks, more than the way his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. There was only one other time he'd seen that look on his brother's face. It was the day their parents died. Then he got that look, of utter suffering and torment, the look of someone having their heart ripped from their chest and shredded. _

_As Reggie sank to the bottom of the ocean, he heard the muffled sound of explosions and screaming coming from the surface. As the water ripped above him, light shone through, the orange and yellow glow of flames and sparks. Reggie's eyes fell shut. Delsin was fighting for him. Delsin wouldn't let his death go without vengeance. _

_Distantly, Reggie wondered if a person could cry underwater._

_His chest panged, and his whole body twisted in miserable agony. He opened his mouth to scream, but a cascade of bubbles rose from his lips instead. He knew he had to die, he knew it. He knew Delsin was too stubborn to let go, and he knew that if he hadn't released his brother's arm, then they'd both be trapped here, drowning and cold. He knew it was the right thing to do. But he couldn't stop screaming._

_Within his concrete shell, Reggie pulled his limbs together, curling into the fetal position as best he could as his last bubbles of air escaped him. He clutched at his clothes with freezing hands, and the further he drifted from the surface, the darker it became, until he couldn't tell when his eyes were open and when they weren't._

_And so Reggie Rowe awaited death._

* * *

It all happened so fast.

Augustine, fleeing before he could finish her. Him, Fetch and Eugene, ascending Augustine's tower and crashing through the window at the top. Watching her tower fall. At the time, Delsin knew he had to press the advantage, had to push onward while the fire still burned in his chest. He had to finish this before the flames turned to tears. So he did. He fought, lost, followed her, fought again, and won. And as the sun rose over Seattle that night, Delsin fell into a deep and fitful sleep.

He didn't say anything to his friends. Just got up and took a bus to the tribe. He remembered plastering on a blank, numb expression, and just walking through the Longhouse, pulling concrete from people's legs without a word. He remembered Betty's face when he healed her, and then the way she looked at him when he told her Reggie was dead. After that, when he could no longer stand the drowning waves of pity from everyone else, he said he still had business in Seattle.

Then he went back to his apartment, in Seattle, and fell asleep again.

Now he woke up to a high-risen sun, and the sounds of people walking back and forth along the sidewalk below his second-story window. He could hear Fetch and Eugene talking lowly in the other room. Life, it seems, went on, without paying attention to him in the slightest.

He stood and went to the window, watching the people and families milling about outside. _Did they know__?_ he wondered. _Did they understand? _Could _anyone_ understand? How could so many people go on with their lives, totally oblivious to what he'd lost and what he'd been through? Or even- even what _they _had lost? Did they understand the depths of their oppression? Did they know that, without him, they'd probably still be going through thumbprint checkpoints and assuring heavily armored officers that, no, their children weren't _terrorists?_

Did they understand the cost of a normal life?

The young man stepped away from the window and laid back on the bed. At the back of his mind, he remembered that rent would be due soon. It felt comically domestic. "Yeah, I'm the smoke guy, neon guy, angel guy, and - oh right, concrete guy. I just saved America from becoming a police state under the thumb of an authoritarian militia that had everyone convinced that a terrorist attack was just around the corner. Is that five or six hundred I owe you?"

Delsin groaned softly and sat up. A hand drifted down his chest, checking the pins on his jacket. He hadn't bothered to change clothes for a few days. Just floated from place to place and bed to bed like a ghost. Probably for the best. Getting dressed, changing clothes, leaving behind the scent of saltwater and blood - if felt like a crime. It felt like choosing to leave Reggie behind, and he couldn't bear that.

Heat pressed at the back of his eyes, making his throat tighten and his fingers curl into the fabric of his jeans. His knuckles shone white as he grit his teeth, choking back tears. He couldn't cry. Could he? He didn't know why he shouldn't. Except, Fetch and Eugene were in the other room, though. He couldn't stand the thought of them coming in, seeing him like this. Seeing him cry.

He shook off his emotions, staggering to his feet and going back to the window, sight blurred by tears. Why was he here? Why had he come back to Seattle? To get away from the tribe? That couldn't be it. That couldn't be the whole reason. What was his excuse? What did he want to happen?

Then, unbidden, he thought: He wanted to see Reggie again.

A soft cry escaped his lips, muffled by the hand he jerked up to stifle it. Reggie had been all the family he had left. Not counting the tribe, but... the tribe was different. Reggie was his brother. The uptight, stoic, hardass, boring, responsible counterweight to Delsin's unconventional nature. Sometimes he swore he could punch Reggie in the face and not regret it, but they were still brothers. Despite their differences, never once had Delsin dared to imagine a life without him.

Delsin pressed his eyes tight and wiped away the small, rebellious tears that threatened to fall. He didn't want to grieve. He didn't want a funeral, he didn't want to think, he didn't want to pretend that this was the new normal and that everything was going to be fine. He couldn't deal with this. He just wanted to go to sleep. He didn't want to _die_, he just - he just wanted to stop existing for a while.

The more he thought, the more Delsin's heart ached. He pulled himself together and adjusted his jacket, smoothing out his expression. He'd never been very good at concealing his emotions, but maybe if he concentrated on the numbness in his chest he wouldn't have to. He emerged from his bedroom and staggered out towards the kitchen, stifling a wince as Fetch and Eugene caught sight of him.

The woman spoke first. "Hey," she offered, her voice soft. "How ya doin', D?"

"Fine," Delsin rasped.

Eugene and Fetch shared a look. "We, uh," Eugene stammered. "We l-let you sleep in."

Delsin nodded blankly, offering no verbal response. "You wanna go out today?" Fetch prodded. The pink in her hair grew a little brighter, her tense emotions making her power flicker. "Maybe go for a walk?"

"No." At last, the older man looked away and arrived at the kitchen. In the fridge, a cereal box and a carton of milk beckoned to him. He served himself a bowl of Cheerios and just stood beside the kitchen counter, staring off into space as his hand mechanically lifted his spoon to his lips.

Behind him, he heard Eugene's careful steps as the geek shuffled into the room. Without looking, Delsin knew the kid's position. Hunched over, shoulders up to his ears, hands in his pockets, trying to make himself as small as possible. "H-Hey, Delsin?"

"What."

He sensed Eugene's flinch. "I-I just, I wanted to say...or see if you were..."

_See if you were okay. _Delsin held in a sigh. "... No."

He let the spoon clink against the bowl as he set the dish on the counter, the motions sounding too loud in the silent room. Eugene stayed still for a few moments. Then, without warning, he threw himself at Delsin's back, burying his face between the older man's shoulderblades and clutching his arms around Delsin's sides. Delsin turned, surprised, and lifted one arm to hug Eugene to his side.

"I'm sorry, Delsin," Eugene said, voice muffled by Delsin's jacket. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

Delsin faltered, and trembled. He turned completely and let his arms curl around the teen, hugging Eugene to him as tightly as he could. Water rose to his eyes and dampened his eyelashes. He grit his teeth and resisted the urge to sob into the hug.

Then, stepping into the doorway of the kitchen - "Ha. Gaaaaay." Fetch smirked and leaned against the doorframe, waiting for the pair to look up at her. Delsin offered a weak smile and tossed a teasing bolt of smoke her way. She didn't bother to dodge, letting the weak shot land in the wall beside her without leaving a scratch.

Eugene sniffled and pulled away, embarrassed. He removed his glasses to dry his eyes with his sleeve, and Delsin did the same, taking a breath and trying to compose himself. "You guys are awesome, you know that?" the Akomish man chuckled weakly.

"You're damn right we are, D," Fetch said, stepping to his side and placing a hand on his arm. "And we're a team, too. So don't go locking yourself in your room and ignoring us, yeah? We're here for you."

Eugene nodded quickly, eyes red but tears dried. "Y-Yeah."

Delsin swallowed, his throat tight, and took another moment to collect himself. "I know," he mumbled. "I just... I can't..."

"Y-You're not the only one who's lost people, Delsin," Eugene said, his lips pressed together and his eyes wide with sadness. "And we're not going to let you suffer alone."

Fetch regarded the teen with a smile before looking back to the other man. "Yeah."

Delsin felt another gush of heat rise behind his eyes, but this time he smiled. "Alright, fan club. Group hug time."

* * *

_And so Reggie Rowe awaited death._

_But the strange ache in his chest traveled down, across his arms, through his spine, sending slow but intense sparks down his body. His fingers twisted and curled, his hair standing on end and the water in his shell surrounding him, creating a small, undersea tornado. Starting slow, it went faster, and faster, blurring the darkness into a small, glowing swirl of bubbles that circled his prison at breakneck speeds._

_Then, he felt the concrete splinter and fall away from his body, and the ice that had encrusted his lips didn't feel so suffocating. He grit his teeth and climbed out of the concrete, pushing aside the crumbling shards of rock as the water swirled faster, easing the pain and cold. Now free, the darkness of the sea still blinded him, and he tossed his head around until he saw glimmers of light coming from the surface._

_Stretching his arm up as far as it would go, he aimed high, and the bubbles followed him. The watery tornado propelled him up, and the light got larger, brighter, until he broke the surface. __Upon reaching air he took to swimming, with the water still swirling and keeping him afloat. He pushed hair back from his face, and realized the "light" he'd been seeing was really burning flames on the water, and the flickering lights that illuminated Augustine's fortress._

_Off in the distance, he heard shouting and screaming, and watched as the tossed geometric creation sitting above the ocean wavered and began to fall, sinking into the water and being absorbed into the black. __Reggie knew he didn't have much time. Cold, and fueled by adrenaline, he turned towards the shore and the water carried him there. He kept his head down, chin tucked to his chest, too weak for tears or words or anything else. Without understanding how, he guided the water towards an area under one of the docks, hidden in shadow._

_Reggie pulled himself up and out of the waves, and the water clung to him as he did so. He felt cool tendrils of liquid pull at his jeans, and he welcomed it. He pulled the water close to him, let it sink into his jacket, let it soothe him with a sudden and otherworldly heat. His breathing, rapid and gasping, slowed. Then, moments later, he passed out._


	2. A Dream Is A Wish

"Goddammit Delsin, hit me!"

"Jesus, Fetch. Calm down. I'll...I'll get there eventually."

A mix of frustration and guilt passed over the female Conduit's face. "Yeah, D, I...I know, but damn, I just want you to know how to actually fight, and not just swing chains at shit and hope for the best."

"I'd argue that approach has worked well enough so far."

"I...screw you." Fetch grunted and settled back down on her feet, arms bent in front of her and knuckles out towards the Akomish man in front of her. "Quit being a little bitch and hit me."

Their position on the roof of the apartment building made for a lovely view of Seattle. Or rather, what would have been a lovely view if it weren't so goddamn rainy all the time. "U-Um, Abigail-"

"Eugene," the woman snapped.

"F-Fetch, sorry, um, maybe you shouldn't...yell at him?"

Delsin gestured to the gawky teen that sat in the shaded area of the roof, hunched over a laptop plugged into the industrial outlet nearby. "Yeah, see? Eugene gets me. Calm your tits, neon girl."

Fetch raised an eyebrow. "Did you just tell me to 'calm my tits'?"

Delsin paused. "...No. No, I take it back. Just...what? You want me to punch you in the face?"

"Yes!" Fetch groaned. "D, even if you hit me, which you won't, we're both fast enough healers that we're not going to do any real damage to each other. So quit getting your panties in a twist and hit me."

Delsin shifted uncomfortably, his hands held up somewhat awkwardly in front of his chest. A moment passed. "You know, my family always told me never to hit girls."

Fetch made another frustrated noise, and this time a small, bony fist landed on Delsin cheek. He shouted and staggered back, one hand flying to his face. "What the hell!" he demanded, glaring at Fetch. "Why'd you hit me?"

"Because you weren't hitting me. Also because you're a little bitch." The girl took a quick step forward and landed another jab in Delsin's stomach, making him double over.

"Christ, Fetch! Stop!"

"Not until you hit me!"

Delsin's eyes narrowed and he stood upright, following the form Fetch had given him. With a growl, he staggered towards the girl, throwing a clumsy but powerful swing her way. She dodged it easily, pulling out of the way and using the moment to land a strike on his exposed shoulder, making him stumble backward.

Delsin recovered quickly, and this time his eyes looked intense, rather than purely angry. His hands were held tightly up in front of him, watching Fetch's every move, and his punches became faster and more focused. The muscle mass in his upper body, given to him by his powers despite what he told everyone else, made sure he didn't tire out and made sure he had the strength to do powerful moves quickly.

For Fetch's part, for what she lacked in brute strength she made up for in speed and precision, dodged most of his blows and landed a few painful ones of her own. For every strong strike Delsin got on one of the thicker areas of her body, Fetch got a sharp and painful one on his joints and less padded parts of his physique. However, they did follow a few unspoken rules, being no crotch kicks from Fetch and no boob punches from Delsin.

In the middle of their exercise and practice session, which was less Fetch teaching Delsin about the ancient art of boxing and more about them getting to beat on each other, Eugene called out. "Guys! Stop!"

The two Conduits let off a few more swings before turning to the younger member of the trio. "What?" Delsin asked.

Eugene held up his laptop. "You guys should come see this."

The pair of boxers glanced at each other before approaching the gamer, their breaths coming in fast pants. They knelt around the laptop, and Eugene pressed play on the video. "This just came in," he said quietly.

"_There is a new Bioterrorist sighting in Seattle as of a few hours ago," _the woman on the screen announced. Footage of the supposed 'bioterrorist' appeared in the corner of the screen._ "This strange figure appears to be using water as their weapon of choice, and has been seen travelling through several locals parks and using the water there, as well as destroying public property such as sewer pipes and water mains. There have been reports of flooding, property damage, and rising tides on the beaches_."

"I really wish they wouldn't say 'bioterrorist,'" Delsin muttered. "We're Conduits."

"They'll learn, D," Fetch assured him. "It's only been a couple days after Augustine fell, you know. People are still getting the word out about her." She spared a glance towards the Akomish man next to her. The past few days had been spent trying to get Delsin to relax, to at least have some hope for the future if they couldn't help him through his brother's death. But it seemed one word was making the apathy and bitterness appear again.

"I know." Delsin sighed, eyes still focused on the screen. "I know."

"_It is unknown if this individual is under the protection of the 'Hero of Seattle,' or 'The Bannerman,' as he is commonly known, as per his speech a few days ago, or if he is one of the prisoners of Curdun Cay. The prisoners, as of this time, are currently under investigation but their release is pending."_

At this point, the footage of the scene had filled the screen, the graphics enhanced slightly by a few words from Eugene. Water was flooding the streets, carrying a swirling tornado of liquid down the road, sloshing over the buildings on each side of the street. It looked like some firefighters were guiding it by leading it along with some water jets and flamethrowers, of all things. Behind the tornado stood a group of heavily armored individuals shooting careful streams of flame at the swirling mass. In front, jets of water led the tornado slowly away from the center of the city, and towards Curdun Cay.

It looked like the carrot and stick, with the Conduit as the donkey.

Delsin felt his hands ball into fists. "They're playing with him," he snarled. "They're just going to lead him to the prison, and put him in chains until they decide whether he's a person or not."

The screen zoomed in on the sight of the tornado, as far as the scope could possibly go, focusing on the strange, human-sized shadow at the center of the tornado. The shaky footage looked like it was being filmed from on a helicopter, but it granted a clear enough picture. A lick of fire struck the tornado and the water retracted, like a living thing. It parted, ever so slightly, and the figure inside could be seen, distantly. The image was blurry, sound filled the speakers, the helicopter was turning and swaying and the figure was just a shadow in the water regardless, but when the water parted, a face turned towards the camera.

Delsin gasped.

* * *

_Reggie couldn't stand it. The sun, shifted so it was staring right at him, blinding eyes made sensitive by time underwater and asleep. He jerked, and a wave of water rose to cover his face, again throwing him into blessed darkness. Reggie exhaled slowly, and attempted to lower the wave. But, like a living thing with a mind of it's own, fluid snakes crept from the wave and wrapped themselves around him. The comfort the man had found in the liquid that previous night vanished, replaced by cold fear._

_He stood upright and staggered backwards, falling over his own two feet, the water twisting and following him. It seemed caught between the conscious command of his mind to stay away, and the sharp adrenaline thudding through him that beckoned the power to his skin. The waves began to swirl again. _

"_Make it stop!" Reggie cried, his voice eerily reminiscent of his brother's reaction after Delsin first got his powers, all those weeks ago. "Leave me alone!" _

_Reggie pulled himself to his feet again, and found the sunlight blinded him once more, shaking his resolve to keep the water away from him. The water swelled and wrapped around him, coating his body in a layer of simultaneously soothing and frightening coolness. Reggie cried out once again, his arms thrust out beside him in an attempt to push the liquid away, only to have it curl around his limbs._

_It never felt aggressive, never pushed itself towards him. It felt like...it felt like it longed to be accepted, to be used, to cling to his skin as if it were his skin. Reggie cried out again, and the water swirled around him in it's strange tornado form as he curled into the fetal position, his sense of touch and conscious thoughts still a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty._

_The water picked him up, drowning him again in darkness, and dimly he heard the sound of cars braking suddenly and people screaming, as his emotions and powers carried him off the ground, towards other homes of water. He sensed it, somehow, humming and rippling and waiting for him in various pipes that burst, that tore themselves open in an attempt to get to him._

_He couldn't even think, anymore. He felt like an animal, going by sensation and instincts alone. A baby animal at that, unused to the world and everything in it._

_He felt like an animal being hunted._

* * *

The two other Conduits turned to face the Bannerman as he stole the laptop off the ground, pressing his nose to the screen, eyes focused on the gaze visible through the brief break in the water. His mouth hung open, and he sat in motionless silence until the water reformed and the face was no longer visible. "That was Reggie," he whispered.

"What?" The other two people said.

"That was Reggie!" Delsin repeated, knuckles bright white as his hands clutched the humming metal of the laptop. "That was my brother! And he's a Conduit!"

"D," Fetch said slowly. "That's not possible. You said it yourself; you watched him sink into the ocean. There's no way he could still be alive."

"Yes there is!" Delsin tossed the device aside, making Eugene flinch as he hurried to pick it back up. The Akomish man jumped to his feet and began to pace the roof, hands gesticulating wildly as he ran from edge to edge of the building. "I-If Reggie was a Conduit, right, and that's him in the tornado thing- then he's got water powers! That's why he survived! He didn't drown, he escaped!"

Eugene was now cradling the laptop like a child, examining the computer for scratches. "But wouldn't he have discovered earlier?" Fetch insisted, coming to her feet and watching Delsin as he walked back and forth.

"Maybe, maybe not," Delsin replied, his eyes wide and unfocused. "It takes stressful situations for someone to realize they're a Conduit, right? Unless they have it pumped into them, like with the D.U.P agents. Maybe my brother just never got scared enough for it to happen."

"He's a cop, D," Fetch said. "You think he's never been in danger before?"

"There's danger and then there's scared," Delsin shot back, raising one finger. "Sure he's been in danger before. But then, you were in danger before, too. And Eugene. And me! But it takes something special for you to really come into it, to really realize the truth. Maybe that was it."

"That's a lotta' maybes." Fetch crossed her arms, face set in an expression of disbelief.

"S-She's right, Delsin," Eugene said, now assured his computer was undamaged.

Fetch approached the older Conduit slowly, laying a hand on his forearm. "Delsin," she said quietly, "I know you don't want to admit your brother's dead. But seeing him in every Conduit that comes around is not the right way to go."

"But I'm _not _seeing him in every Conduit!" Delsin shouted, jerking away from Fetch's touch. Smoke swirled around his upper body, flaming and sparking in time with his erratic heartbeat. His gaze snapped to Eugene. "When was that report posted?" he asked.

Eugene swallowed. "Delsin, if you think you're going to-"

"Hell yeah I'm going to go check it out! Reggie's in that goddamn tornado, man!"

"_Delsin!_" Fetch shouted. The roof fell silent, and the two other young men turned to face her. "...Fine. We'll go look at the guy. Maybe he's your brother, maybe he's not. If he is, I owe you a drink. If not, we save another Conduit from months in Curdun Cay, waiting until the bureaucrats decide enough is enough. Alright?"

Delsin stopped. He glanced down at his feet. He took a deep breath, and let it go. "Okay," he said at last, sighing. "Okay, let's go.

* * *

**Okay, still a little short for my tastes, but I'm working on it! We still have to get into the meat of the story, and I don't want to put extra stuff in there and then have it end awkwardly. I try to give my chapters a decent length, but still have it short and sweet, as well as end at a decent part. Don't worry; things will get longer soon.**


	3. Battle In A Downpour

**Yo. ****First off, I'm really, really sorry this has taken me three months to update, but I've been busy with things and things happened and I just haven't had the time or inclination. Partly because I've been replaying Infamous: Second Son, making Delsin evil, and...it hurts. Legitimately, I get upset seeing him be an asshole after watching him be so cool. It hurts my heart. And I haven't even gotten to Eugene yet and made him evil! Oh, god, it's going to suck. **

**But anyway...just so you know, there's a reason I've written everything the way I have, and I have big plans in mind for the Rowe bro's. I swear, I'm going to update more frequently, and in the meantime I hope you enjoy this new chapter.**

* * *

Delsin crouched over the vent, then jumped up with a burst of smoke as the vent's air tossed him up into the sky. A small grunt escaped him as a cloud of smoke erupted from under his fingertips and kept him hovering in the air. He swerved and began his slow descent, propelling himself towards the nearest building by dissipating into smoke that rushed a few yards forward before reforming into himself. Beside him, Eugene soared through the air in his arch-angel form, and Fetch zipped past in a stream of light that left small rays of neon behind. In this way they rushed to the location of the strange, water-based Conduit, travelling at similar speeds before they arrived, each coming to a stop beside one another at the lip of a building overlooking the scene. A helicopter soared above them, sending a cool breeze over their heads as it lurched through the air above the cyclone of water spinning below them.

On the road, several stories down, the Conduit was being contained with jets of fire, focused bolts of flame that made the water seethe and steam. Several water pipes and nearby store windows lay in pieces across the ground, any liquid they once contained being absorbed into the huge, swirling mass that writhed in the center of the street intersection. Every so often, a tentacle of water would reach out to swipe at it's attackers or to crush a car. The people attempting to quell the Conduit looked like a mix of police officers and D.U.P agents. While lacking a leader, many soldiers remained steadfast to Augustine's misguided cause and attempted to enforce her will even in her absence. And, of course, somehow they'd acquired flamethrowers.

"W-What should we do?" Eugene asked. The quaver in his voice sounded unnatural in the imposing, glowing body of the arch-angel.

"Yeah, D...how you wanna go about this?" Fetch crossed her arms and turned to Delsin.

"'It's simple." The tone in his voice sounded like it should have been accompanied by a cocky grin, but his face looked absent of any emotion. "We go in and save his ass."

"Delsin..." Fetch opened her mouth, paused, and closed it again. "...Don't get your hopes up."

"Wouldn't dream of it." The Bannerman leaped from the edge of the building, his fist raised high as it accumulated power. He landed, his hand hit the ground and the energy held in his grip released and caused a crater, the sheer force tossing anyone nearby into the air and several feet away. He stood, shook his fist to unravel his chains, and swung his weapon of choice into the nearest enemy's face, making them stagger backwards into the nearest wall before slumping down, motionless.

"_Hey_!" Delsin recovered from his attack, standing upright and facing the crowd of police and military. His shoulders held back and chin up, his voice boomed out over the intersection as officers and passers-by looked on in awe. "That one's under my protection. Leave 'em alone."

"You don't have the right to say that," one of them spat. An ex-D.U.P officer stepped away from the crowd, leaving the rest of the flamers to control the water Conduit. The orange, white and black outfitted soldier pointed an accusing finger at Delsin's chest. "This bio-terrorist caused a scene in the middle of the city. They're a danger to everyone, and just because you're a freak like them doesn't mean you get to say who goes free and who doesn't."

Smoke billowed out from Delsin's hands, teeth grinding against each other as he stalked over to the man, making the skeptic take a few nervous steps back. "Try to stop me," Delsin growled.

"Yo asshats!" Fetch called. A stream of pink light leapt over the edge of the building the woman had been perched on, and in a second the girl stood in between the soldier and the Conduit. "I don't know if you dumbasses remember, but this here's the Bannerman. And all so-called "Bio-Terrorists" are under his protection. Stand _down!_" Her final word was punctuated with a laser beam that knocked a flamethrower out of a cop's hand, making him jump and stumble back.

The gathered police officers glanced at one another, then released their weapons. The ex-D.U.P guy sneered, making Delsin's blood boil. "Whatever you say, kid."

However, in the few precious, tense seconds Delsin and the local law enforcement had been interacting, the cyclone of water had gotten more violent. The D.U.P agent had seemed about to say more when a tendril of water reached out and slammed into his side, making a scream tear itself from his throat as he struck the wall of a nearby building. Instinctively Delsin hunkered down, and noticed his friends did the same. The twister picked up speed now that the forces guiding it had stopped, and as it spun the officers ran for cover. It seemed they expected Seattle's Hero to handle it from now on.

Time to get to work.

"Fetch!" Delsin called, his voice struggling to be heard from the increased velocity of the tornado and the screams of the people on the street. "Help me thin out the water! Eugene, you get them outta there!" Neither of his friends acknowledged their respective commands, but they started working simultaneously. Fetch dashed from one rooftop to another, avoiding volleys of water thrown her way after she'd fire a laser beam at the cyclone. Eugene had his angels make sure the Conduit didn't have access to water, blocking off fire hydrants, water pipes and manholes. And Delsin concentrated a barrage of smoke at the cyclone, the opposing elements striking one another and making the Conduits swirling element a thick, murky color.

Trucks full of cops and militia can barreling down the street, blocking off the area from civilians, clearing the roads so the Conduits could operate in peace. Delsin got a face full of stinging water and had to take a sloppy dodge to the side, only to stop in front of a girl lying in the street, her eyes wide as she struggled to breathe. Judging by the the puddle she was lying it, it looked like she'd taken a breath at the wrong time and gotten a chest full of water for her trouble. "D, _move!_" came Fetch's distant, urgent and impatient order.

Delsin blinked, frowned, and swore under his breath as he scooped up the girl. He heard the thick slosh of water behind him as a pipe unnoticed by Eugene's angels burst, the liquid reached out and nipping at his shoes. Delsin ran faster, half-smoke and half-man, diving into an alley and out of the water's reach. He stood, gasping for breath, and tried to steady himself long enough to summon his abilities to him. But just before he could focus his energy on the water in the girl's lungs, a pair of EMT's burst into the alley, grabbing the girl and giving her the necessary resuscitation. "Go," one of them barked, voice harsh and eyes intense. "We got her."

The Akomish man paused, eyeing the EMT with a mix of surprise and trepidation. Then he heard the angry shout of "_Delsin! _Where the fuck _are _you?!" echoing from a faraway rooftop, and Delsin remembered his purpose. Giving the doctor a firm nod, he breezed into a nearby air vent that spewed him up into the sky. Smoke sparked out from under his palms and he hovered for a moment, directing himself just beside the twirling mass of fluid before raising one hand and letting himself fall. Again, blackness poured from his fingertips and he hit the ground, dust and fire rolling out in all directions from his landing point, the force striking the cyclone and making it seethe, the water tearing and popping, revealing glimpses of the Conduit within.

Delsin felt his heart, normally strong and steady in his chest, speed up at the sight of the shadowed body in the water. The sensation of his blood running cold from adrenaline meant he wasn't paying attention when the cyclone finally gave out. It broke it's circle around the Conduit and used the pent up kinetic energy to shoot straight for Delsin. The Bannerman's eyes widened and he barely had enough time to shut his mouth and eyes before being engulfed in the swell of water.

His senses were drowned out in darkness, and a sharp pain exploded in the back of his head as the water slammed him against the side of a building. He felt the sheer force from the blow leave a distinctly Delsin-sized crater in the wall. But unlike before, when he'd fallen from the sky and hit the ground, this time he didn't have his Conduit-energy to cushion him. His vision blurred and he felt hot liquid drip from the back of his head, the air knocked from his lungs as he hit the ground.

He heard Fetch calling his name before he blacked out.

* * *

_Reggie had been going purely on instinct. His sense of hearing, muffled by the water encasing him, still allowed him to recognize the screams of terror surrounding him as he poured - that being the only word for it - into the streets of Seattle. Everything around him seemed twisted and deformed, like viewing the city through a blue-tinted, funhouse mirror. The desire to stay calm and protect civilians battled with the terrible fear in his heart, the fear that make his throat tight and his breathing fast and shallow. He sweat bullets, but that could have been the water perpetually twirling around him, keeping him several feet off the ground and suspended in the air. Or, not air, but rather water._

_He travelled like this for some time, each time the fear dying in his heart being revitalized with each scream of terror directed his way. He felt the water, the same way he felt his own skin, and acknowledged the sensation of concrete, the sting of fire biting at him, the cold stab of metal and sparks as his limb-like tendrils of water stretched out and smashed cars along the side of the road. He felt like a small child, not fully in control of his actions yet vaguely conscious of them. He lay slave to his emotions, only his emotions possessed much more power than he did. Eventually, though, he felt himself being guided somewhere. Fire at his back, gnawing at his neck, and blessedly cold water in front of him. He felt innocents being directed away from him, felt like he was being isolated from the world. Soon his only surroundings were the two sensations of fire and water, bad and good, one to avoid and the other to follow. _

_His mind said, "You're being directed, led on, like a wild animal. Calm down. Fight it. You are Reggie Rowe. You are a cop. Control yourself." But the other, much stronger and foreign part of him said, "Trust them. Trust us, trust the water, relax and don't fear. Do as you're told. Avoid the pain." _

_And even as he listened to the foreign power he felt himself filled with guilt._

_Then something changed, and suddenly both the water and the heat stopped. He stood, waiting, fearing for what was to come next, and not without reason. Suddenly his crystal blue water became murky, and bright pink heat threatened to sear away his protection of the cyclone. This only made the fear come back, stronger and scarier, and he found himself thrashing his limbs wildly within his cell, hoping his vague sensations and limited capabilities with this power would keep him safe. And as his defenses were slowly eaten away, he realized any sources of strength were being taken away, strangled by unseen hands._

_When his water finally abandoned him, finally tore away and left him collapsed on the floor, it felt like he'd died._

* * *

It was quite a sight.

Both Rowe brothers, lying unconscious, mere feet away from one another. Fetch and Eugene, acknowledging the battle was over after a moment, relaxed their abilities. The streets, just moments ago filled with the violent sounds of their respective elements, sat eerily silent. The woman and teen glanced at one another, then both descended to ground level. Fetch arrived in a burst of pink light, and Eugene shedding his arch-angel exterior that dissipated into the sky. They looked at each other once again. The city, or at least this corner of it, lay in tatters around them, water everywhere, buildings bruised and battered, and pieces of debris covering the ground.

Fetch pursed her lips, then took Eugene's arm, making him jump. "Hush," she commanded, eyes narrowing. "You check Delsin. I got the Conduit."

Eugene gave her a wide-eyed, nervous nod. The gamer crept over to Delsin's limp body, prodding his side with a hesitant sneaker. Fetch swallowed, her throat dry despite the water surrounding them, and went over to the body lying in the road. The Conduit, most definitely male, lay on his stomach. He wore a Hawaiian shirt and jeans, but nothing else. After a brief, nervous pause, Fetch shook her head at herself. "Ain't nothin' to be scared of, Abigail," she muttered, kneeling down beside the body. "Just the guy that nearly kicked your ass, lying possibly dead on the street. Pssh. Fuckin' wuss. I wouldn't..."

She trailed off.

While speaking, she'd managed to roll the body over on it's back and brush thick hair out of his face, only to be confronted with the unmistakable face of Reggie Rowe. She gasped, a hand flying up to her lips to stifle the sound. She glanced back over to Eugene and Delsin, the teen removing the older man's trademark beanie to examine the back of Delsin's head. Fetch looked back to Reggie. She swallowed, leaned over, then leaned a little more, hovering one ear over the older Rowe's mouth. After a brief, terrifying moment, the soft wisp of breath brushed her skin, making her sigh with relief. He was breathing. Thank Christ.

Fetch cocked her head to the side, observed the limp body in front of her, then stood. With some effort, she hoisted Reggie off the ground and onto her shoulder. The Rowe brothers weren't going to get themselves home, after all.


	4. You Make Me Brave

Eugene hadn't known what to think when Fetch lurched over, a body slung across her shoulders. The gamer hadn't known Delsin's brother well, hadn't seen him very often, but Eugene knew the face of the older Rowe well enough to recognize him. And indeed, from the uncharacteristically serious look in her eyes, Fetch knew it was Reggie too.

"...So what now?" Eugene asked.

"You have your boys give us a lift back home." The command sounded very weary. Fetch grunted, readjusting Reggie on top of her, sparing a glance towards Delsin. "He alright?"

Eugene shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. There's a lot of b-blood on his head."

Fetch's eyes widened and she snarled. "Then fix it, dumbass!" She let Reggie fall to the ground and dashed to Delsin's side, cradling his head in her hands. She hastily picked up the Bannerman's beanie, tucking it in her pocket, before summoning a swirl of neon around her friend's skull, watching the thick crimson anxiously.

"I already tried, Fetch. It's bad."

Fetch paused, looking to the younger Conduit with danger in her eyes. "How bad?"

Again, Eugene resisted the urge to wring his hands, to hunker down into his hoodie, to hide from her intense gaze. "I-I dunno. He hit his head pretty hard. It doesn't look like something you can heal easily."

Fetch watched him for a moment longer, then lowered her eyes. She released a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry for calling you a dumbass," she said quietly. "I didn't mean it."

Eugene forced a chuckle. "It's...it's fine," he mumbled.

"No, it's not." Fetch stood, the small woman brushing herself off before striding back to the older Rowe and returning him to his position on her back. "Don't let anyone pick on you, especially not me, 'kay?"

Eugene nodded, a small smile rising to his lips. "'Kay."

Fetch returned the smile, but it faded quickly, replaced with a exhausted expression. "God, I'm so fucking tired. I mean, you _know _as soon as Delsin wakes up, he's gonna flip his shit. And I'm not sure I want to be the one who has to calm him down in the middle of one of his temper tantrums." She grunted and nudged the body atop her. "And god knows what happened to this dumb-fuck in the last week. Christ."

Eugene bit his lower lip and attempted to offer reassurance. "At l-least he's alive. And I'm s-sure Delsin will be okay. He always is." He couldn't help the tone of gentle affection that crept into his voice in the last sentence.

Fetch sighed. "First time for everything. Call up your angels, will ya?"

Eugene nodded. He figured he'd rather have an apathetic Fetch than a bitter and hopeless one. He raised a hand, and pixels rose from his fingertips into the sky, coming together and focusing into high-resolution angels, elegant wings fluttering in the air and circling their master. Just the sight of them calmed Eugene's nervous energy. "We need a ride."

No further instruction needed, the angels desended, taking each member of the group in gentle hands before swooping upwards, carrying their live cargo to the rooftop the Bannerman and Co. called home. After a few minutes (air traffic being light) they were dropped off at the place, the angels dissipated at a wave from Eugene.

"You couldn't put faces on them or something?"

"Huh?" Eugene turned to see Fetch dragging Delsin and Reggie towards the stairwell. Eugene rushed to help her. He carried Delsin while she took Reggie, and slowly they crept down the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the narrow passageway.

"They're kinda creepy. Can't you control their appearance?"

"Not...not really, I mean..they're based on my game."

"That MMO thing you like to play all the time?"

"...Yeah."

"Oh. Well, I shoulda figured. That's fine. Just curious, I guess."

The conversation ended there. In a somewhat awkward silence the party inched closer to their destination, thanking the deities of their choice that no one crossed paths with them on the stairs, and with a few bumps and curses they made their way into their shabby apartment. Delsin got put in the master bedroom, while Reggie got the couch. "Closer to the door and rooftop if we need to get him out of here quick," Fetch explained quietly.

Once they'd bandaged Delsin's head with some wrappings that were lying around, they took to examining Reggie. Upon closer observation, they found he was extremely cold to the touch, and water droplets lingered on his skin no matter how much they wiped away. Parts of his skin were black and freezing cold, though the veins on these patches of black skin looked puffy, as if blood was struggling to reach all the damaged parts of his body. Even as they watched, parts of the black faded away, albeit slowly.

"Frostbite," Eugene murmured. "I read about it, once. Black means permanently damaged tissue."

"Doesn't look permanent," Fetch scoffed. "If the way it keeps healing up like that means anything."

Eugene shrugged.

Once they'd done all they could think to do with both Rowe brothers, they'd gone their separate ways. Fetch spread out across the couch, pulling up an old magazine she'd already read and burying her nose in it, signaling she was not to be disturbed. Eugene, for his part, went to his room where he'd moved all his electronics from his old "lair," or whatever it had been. "Lair" sounded cool though.

He tried to boot up Heaven's Hellfire, but the devs were doing a massive update and everything was lagging beyond belief. Plus, he found he couldn't concentrate. He kept freezing up every time he heard a noise, both hopeful and terrified it was one of the Rowes'. Finally he gave up and switched off his computer, sneaking into Delsin's room, hoping Fetch hadn't noticed him. God knew what she'd think.

He shut the door behind him without a sound, then stood still at the doorway, watching Delsin. After a moment, he swallowed, and approached to sit on the end of the bed. Normally, Delsin's beanie always sat snug over his skull, and when he slept he snored loudly with limbs all akimbo. Now, his hair lay lifeless over his face, his breathing shallow, and his arms and legs perfectly straight.

Eugene swallowed, and pulled his hoodie away from his head, for once not sheltering himself in it's shadows. He'd started making a habit of that. Once Delsin had found him, his anxiety had actually improved, and he found himself relaxing more and more around the people he'd come to feel so close to. Normally he found it so difficult to let go of his anxiety around people; it's why he spent so much time in-game. It's easier to laugh and hold up a conversation if you didn't see their face, didn't have the chance to over-analyze their expression, to wonder if they didn't really think you were funny or interesting, if they only tolerated you, or if they secretly hated you.

Those were the worries that always nagged at Eugene, the fears he kept tucked away inside him. Years of bullying, distance from his parents, and then torture at the hands of Augustine, Eugene couldn't help but doubt everyone's intentions towards him. He trusted so few, and whenever he spoke it came out in stutters, like the very words he spoke didn't want to come out but wanted to stay hidden away in his throat. But now, despite Delsin's devil-may-care attitude and Fetch's sometimes sharp temper, he knew - more firmly than he knew maybe anything else - that they cared about him.

That didn't mean the worries weren't there, of course. He still didn't like to be touched, still found it hard to be emotionally open. But Fetch and Delsin knew about his fears, and for every time they swore and gave him a hard time, they'd pull him in for a hug and soothe his ever-present nervousness. And sometimes, when he was alone in the dark and no one was listening, he'd admit to himself they felt more like family than friends, even in the limited time they'd known each other. He remembered the first couple of days he'd been living with them, and Delsin would take him up on the rooftop. Delsin would have a beer that always seemed perpetually half-empty, and they'd just talk. Or rather, Delsin would talk and Eugene would listen.

* * *

"_So, there was this chick in high school," Delsin chuckled, pulling one knee up to his chest, "that totally had the hots for me. I mean, most girls did, because I'm awesome like that, but this one...this one was good. Nice boobs too." A pause. "You ever seen boobs, Eugene?"_

_"No."_

_"You should. They're great. Hey - maybe you'll get a chance soon. Hangin' with the Hero of Seattle has to have some points with the ladies, right?" Delsin gave the younger boy a cocky grin and a light punch to the shoulder._

_Instinctively Eugene flinched away from the blow, but relaxed after half a second and blushed. "I-I guess so."_

_Delsin noticed the small flinch, and the grin faded. "I'm joking, you know."_

_"I know."_

_The Akomish man set his beer down on the concrete with a sigh. "...You know, Eugene, me and Fetch...we're not gonna hurt you. No one is, anymore. It's our job to look after each other. And other Conduits. And everyone else." His lips twitched. "Okay, maybe we should just call ourselves heroes and be done."_

_Eugene smiled softly. "...I understand, Delsin."_

_"You sure?"_

_Eugene hesitated, then nodded._

_"Good. You know, maybe tomorrow we can fly around and see what we can do, just the two of us. Fetch can go have her period or something."_

_"Sounds fun."_

_"Damn right it does. Go get me another beer."_

_"The one you have isn't empty."_

_"It isn't? Oh, shit. You're right." Delsin took a long swig, swallowing with a contented sigh._

_"...You were telling me about that high school girl."_

_"Oh! Yeah. So, yeah, tits of a goddess..."_

* * *

He'd been so happy, so pleased with his family. Then, to see all the life drained from Delsin after Reggie's then-supposed death...it hurt. Nowhere near as much as Delsin was hurt, of course, but...still. So much of his confidence came second-hand from Delsin's bravado. The Akomish man had the ability to just crack a smile and tell a joke, and in that moment you'd swear everything would be okay. And he always did the right thing - okay, maybe not always, but he always tried to.

And now...

A gentle hand settled on Eugene's shoulder, startling him. He jerked and stood up, turning around to see Fetch shoot a finger to her lips, hushing him silently. After a second, they both sat on the end of the bed.

"I-I didn't hear you come in," Eugene whispered.

"You were too busy brooding," Fetch smirked. A silence fell, quieting them both as they turned to look at their leader, lying comatose on the bed. "He's gonna be okay, you know."

"Is he?"

Fetch swallowed. The sheer vulnerability in the gamer's voice broke her heart. She reached out, tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie with one hand. "C'mere."

Fetch pulled him in and wrapped her arms around him, letting him press his face into her shoulder. "I know we give you a lotta shit, Eugene," she murmured, "but you're part of our family. And we don't turn our backs on family. Delsin's gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay, and we're all gonna be stronger after this is over. I know seeing D so sick like this hurts you. But I promise; it'll get better. He'll get better, you'll get better, and maybe one day you'll be able to have your own confidence instead of relying on someone else's. But until then, we're not going to abandon you. Just...right now, I need you to be strong. For our family."

A few seconds of silence passed before she kissed his head and gently released him, pulling him to face her. His eyes were red with tears he refused to let fall. "You got me?"

Eugene swallowed, giving the woman a shaky nod. "I g-got you."

Fetch smiled and ruffled his hair. "Glad we had this talk. Now, come on - Delsin's not gonna sleep well if we're in here cryin' it up, and I got a deck a' cards callin' our names."

Eugene nodded and wiped his eyes, removing his glasses with a trembling hand to clean them off. "I'm coming."

Fetch pressed a hand to his shoulder before leaving the room, letting the door stay open as an invitation for him to follow. After wiping his glasses clean, Eugene stood. He turned, sparing Delsin a final glance, before leaving the bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

* * *

_Ugh._

_Reggie's head throbbed, his body ached, and he felt flushed with fever, Every beat of his heart sent tingles across his skin, made beads of sweat drip from his forehead, and he felt trapped inside his own mind. His body seemed separate from him, both exceedingly painful and sensitive but somehow foreign. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism, meant to keep him from recognizing and remembering the new powers he possessed._

_Oh, right. Those. _

_Reggie's eyes fluttering. Distantly, he became aware of sensation again. The feel of fabric against his hand. The smell of unwashed dishes and old furniture. The disgusting taste in his mouth. And the sound of some sort of commotion._

_"Holy shit!"_

_"F-Fetch, he'll hear you!"_

_"'Gene, he's waking up. Wh-What are we gonna do?"_

_"I don't know!"_

_The rising voices, voices he should remember, make goosebumps rise on his skin. He moaned softly and twitched his fingers, eyes opening then shutting tight at the sudden influx of light._

_"Fuck! He's opening his eyes!"_

_"Abig- Fetch, stay c-calm. Panicking isn't going to help."_

_"I dunno, 'Gene, I feel like adrenaline might be useful if he starts waking up and busting up our shit!"_

_"Fetch you're gonna freak him out if you keep yelling-"_

_"I'm not yelling!"_

_He heard the words but didn't quite understand them, only acknowledging the growing fear that made him break out in a sweat. He mumbled, his tongue thick and disconnected from his brain, producing only garbled sounds. _

_Then his power returned to him._

_In less than a second, he sensed all the sources of water in the area. Pipes in the wall. Faucets. Drains. And out of habit now, being his immediate response to danger, he called on them._

_"Holy shit! Fuck! Oh my god! Eugene he's breaking the walls!"_

_"Fetch!"_

_"Oh my god, Eugene! Can you- can you- holy fuck, oh my god. Oh my god. Fu-!"_

_A voice was cut off as one of the pipes he sensed broke, and a rush of water flooded the room, splashing over him and calming him. Like the hug of an old friend, it wrapped itself around him, soothing his pain and fear._

_But now there were wordless screams filling the room in time with the water. Too much of the liquid was being absorbed into the floors, the furniture. He had to have it. _

_Then black heat struck him in the chest, and Reggie saw his brother again._

* * *

**So, see? I kept my promise. Another chapter, and a pretty good one at that. I wanted to write one from Eugene's point of view, simply because I feel like you don't really get to know him as well as you do Fetch or Delsin, so I thought he deserved a personality of his own. I do enjoy giving myself writing challenges. **

**Did any of you understand what I was going for with his character? I've been making him just kind of stereotypically awkward and quiet, since that's the most I got from his character in-game, but here I feel like I explained that some. And hey, in future after Delsin recovers and Eugene has his emotional support back, our favorite little gamer boy may be in for some pretty cool character development.**

**But that's all in the future. For now, I hope you enjoyed reading. :)**


	5. Something Old, Something New

**Well, I promised I would update more, and that was what - a month ago? I'm awful, I know, but it's been a very lazy summer and school's just now started up again, so I have literally no time for anything anymore. But I keep getting messages telling me you guys are following my story and it guilts me into making new chapters for you. It's horribly effective. So I guess if you want more, review and follow and I'll feel obligated to make more stuff...? If you want, I suppose. Hopefully I'll have time for more writing once I get used to my new school schedule.**

**Will update soon(?)**

* * *

The back of his head felt like fire, burning and aching and searing his skin. The flush of water erupting from the wall beside him jerked him awake, his eyes fluttering open only to squeeze themselves shut once more at the burst of pain behind his skull. The sheets of the bed clung to his skin as the water absorbed into the mattress and covers, forcing him to sit up and stagger to the floor. His shoes squished upon striking the inch or so of water covering the floor, and he made his way out into the hallway.

Through the ringing of his ears and the periodic destruction of the walls, he heard Fetch and Eugene shouting, then a shrill, metal sound as the wall cracked and somebody screamed. Delsin emerged into the living room and found the place flooded, Reggie writhing on the couch and Eugene pinned under a fallen pipe, the water around him turning crimson. Delsin turned to Reggie, saw the water curling around his brother's limbs, the unfocused eyes staring off into space. Delsin raised a slow, trembling hand, and shot a bolt of smoke at Reggie, slamming into the older Rowe's chest. The smoke made Reggie's body twitch, and an invisible force emanated from his body, the water rising up and down in sloping waves away from Reggie.

A quick glance to the side showed Eugene and Fetch working together to pull away the pipe, Eugene conjuring a glowing blue sword that leveraged the pipe away, and Fetch pulling Eugene to safety in a burst of light. The water level was rising but the adrenaline pumping through his veins relieved Delsin's headache some. The younger Rowe jumped forward, clasping his brother's arm and dashing into an air vent in a wisp of smoke. Usually a smoke dash could be done with ease, Delsin able to dissolve and reform in moments after following the air currents in a building. But with Reggie at his side, Delsin felt the itch to reform, the feeling of suffocation in the narrow panels of the vent burning hotter in his lungs. After what felt like an eternity the pair erupted from a vent at the roof of the apartment building, the brother's bodies' collapsing mere feet from each other.

Delsin recovered first, used to the feeling of vent travel, but Reggie lay writhing on the rooftop, extremities twitching and mouth opening and closing like a choking fish. Something hot dripped down the back of Delsin's neck, but he ignored it and rushed to his brother's side. "Reggie!" he shouted. Black fluid dripped from their clothes, a mixture of ash and water. Delsin grabbed his brother's shoulders. "Can you hear me, man? Wake up!"

At Delsin's touch, Reggie jerked away and flipped over, curling up into a ball and dry heaving on the rooftop. Slowly, slowly he pulled himself to his feet, taking small, trembling steps away from his brother. Reggie's dark eyes stood unfocused, glancing in all directions, his feet leaving dark puddles in his stead. Finally his gaze went to Delsin, his eyes honing in on his brother's expression. "D...Delsin," Reggie coughed.

The Rowe in question leaped to his feet. "Yes! Yes, Reg, it's me," Delsin said, eyes wide. His hands reached for his brother, but the older man kept a careful distance between them.

"N-No! Stay away from me," Reggie pleaded, staggering backward. "I can't- I can't control it!"

"I know. I know, Reggie, but please...I can help." Delsin stood, slowly, approaching his sibling with arms outstretched, moving as though soothing a wild animal.

"I'm a monster, Delsin," the older brother whispered, his dark eyes wide and his hair plastered to his forehead. "Delsin, I hurt people, I know I did, and I c-can't, I can't..." The man tripped, crumpling to the floor, twitching and sputtering as more water swirled up from pipes around the building, casting sprawling shadows over the apartment rooftop. Delsin countered it with a sparking storm of smoke, the dancing cinders combating the thick, powerful current of the water. The younger brother started to sweat, his muscles flexing under the invisible weight of his power fighting Reggie's.

"You're not a monster, Reg," Delsin said, kneeling beside the older Rowe. "You're my brother. I'm not gonna let you be a monster, not as long as I'm here to protect you." He reached out and grabbed Reggie's forearms and the pair convulsed, not fighting the sudden internal explosion but letting it pulse through them. Delsin's vision swam, the now-familiar heat of new power enveloped him, and his eyes fell shut.

* * *

_I was always the good brother._

_After Mom and Dad died - hell, even before they died, I was covering for Delsin. Simple things, like when he ate too much candy and I was the one that ate my vegetables. He got in fights at school, I...well, I got in fights too, but only ever to finish what Delsin started. Nobody picks on my brother. Nobody. And then Mom and Dad left, and I had to_

_**Screaming**_

_**Blood, fire, prick of a needle**_

_**"My sons..."**_

_It was a car crash. I remember it so clearly - they made sure Delsin didn't see, watching him so close, not letting him out of their sight for a minute. But I was the good brother, and people let me be, so I saw the pictures in the paper. I saw the file. I overheard the talks, between the custody lawyers and Betty and everyone else in the tribe. I knew what happened, and I carried that burden with me my whole life._

_It made me untouchable_

_**"You're a failure. So limited, so weak...well, you never get it right on the first try. We'll see if your brother turns out better."**_

_afraid I was going to die but I didn't. But...was it worth it?_

* * *

"Delsin!"

The younger Rowe's eyes flashed open. Something was wrong.

Fetch and Eugene sprinted to his side, kneeling and clutching him, their fingers clinging to the damp fabric of his jacket. Delsin coughed and his vision blurred, his head throbbing. His throat felt hot and dry, his tongue thick and unresponsive in his mouth.

_**"A success! Another bouncing baby boy. And this one...this one is special. Different. Better."**_

He was out of Reggie's mind, but he could feel it, something, some_one. _Reggie's powers hadn't transferred over right. A wave of nausea rocked his core, making him roll over and gag onto the concrete. His senses felt both dulled and intense. The concrete digging into the skin of his palms felt incredibly painful, but from a distance, like it was someone else feeling the pain.

_**Heat! Pain. Screaming again, the cry of a baby, bright lights**_

Delsin let out a sound that could be only described as a wail. Something was _wrong_. Wrong, wrong, sickeningly wrong, his body burning like it wanted to tear itself in two. It hurt...hurt so _much. _He could feel his brain dripping out of his ears, melting, turning to liquid fire inside his skull and scorching the bone. He made another pitiful wail.

Fetch and Eugene's voice, the low, worried words passing their lips struck his eardrums like daggers, making his hands fly to his ears and muffle everything. Tears streamed down his face.

"Delsin!"

_**"Don't leave now"**_

A rush of water passed over his face, shocking him out of the vision. The man turned and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the roof, then curled into the fetal position, looking towards the source of the help. Reggie lay beside him, his dark eyes haunted and surrounded with heavy shadows. "I felt it too," he whispered.

"Felt what?" Fetch asked, worry and impatience making her tone sharp.

"I don't know," Delsin groaned, and sat up. Reggie rolled up, putting his head in his hands and muttering to himself.

"We should get inside," Eugene suggested.

"There's not much of an inside left," Fetch grumbled. "I'm pretty sure we flooded half the building. I don't think we'll be welcomed back."

"What a headline," Delsin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "'Seattle's Hero Causes Immense Property Damage; Get Kicked Out Of Apartment.'" After rubbing his eyes, he turned to the male figure sitting beside him and lowered his voice. "Reg?"

The other man didn't respond at first, pulling his knees up to his chest and staring blankly for a solid few seconds. "I can't," he announced after a moment.

Delsin swallowed. "I know. But we gotta go."

"Go where?" Eugene prodded. "L-Like Fetch said, back downstairs isn't a good idea."

"So we hitch a ride on some guardian angels and get outta here," the smoke-Conduit replied. "Get us anywhere, just away from here."

"Home," Reggie murmured. "I want to go home."

No one said anything. Around them, the light sound of water dripping dappled the air, and the sound of driving cars, halted during the semi-fight, begun again. Their actions unspoken, the group waiting for the world to return to normal before acting. At last, Eugene raised a hand to the sky, and out of an appearing cloud of pixels a handful of armored angels emerged. The leader, the one with the shiniest armor, came and knelt in front of Eugene. The geek laid a hand on the angel's shoulder, and commands seemed to flow through his touch, for the angels gently took each member of the party into their grasp and they soared into the sky without a word.

Delsin lay limp and quiet in the arms of the angel, his gaze unfocused as he retreated into the depths of his mind. He didn't think. He just needed silent. It seemed everyone else did too, because the next few hours of the angel ride were spent in silence. The sun moved across the sky as they reached their destination, and it appeared to be early evening when they landed on the ridge that housed the Akomish Longhouse.

"Thank you," Eugene murmured, and in unison the angel held their right hands across their chest and knelt down, then dissipated in a cloud of bright pixels.

"How'd you know where I live?" Delsin asked, turning to the teen.

Eugene gave his friend a casual shrug as he stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "I have my ways."

The Akomish man gave the geek a mildly impressed nod, then turned back to the Longhouse. He paused, and his gaze flickered to the man at his side. Reggie still didn't have a coat or shoes. "You ready, Reg?" Delsin whispered.

Reggie didn't speak, just turned his eyes to his brother and stared at him. Unfamiliar creases tugged at the edges of his face, his eyelids stood half-closed, his lips turned down in an emotionless, blank expression. While Delsin and the others had dried off on the way here, Reggie still dripped with water, his clothes darker for the wetness, and water droplets hung from his eyes lashes and slid down his skin. The younger brother reached out to grab Reggie's shoulder, knuckles white as he clutched a man he was terrified to lose all over again. "It's my turn to take care of you, man," Delsin said quietly. "I'm not gonna let you down."

Delsin swallowed past his tight, dry throat and turned back to the Longhouse. His adopted family at his heels, he rapped his knuckles against the wood of the door, a sharp _ta-tap _of a sound. A few moments passed before slow, quiet footsteps shuffled to the door from inside the building, and an unseen lock was undone. The door swung open, and an aged, female face peered out. "Delsin?"

"Hey, Betty."

The door swung open a little wider, the old woman glancing to the group of people clustered behind the Conduit. Her expression remained one of mild, if pleasant surprise, but she froze when her eyes moved to Reggie. "...Is that..."

"Yeah."

"We thought-"

"I know. We all did. But he's alive." Delsin sighed. "Betty, we just...need to come home for a little while."

Betty stared at the older Rowe. Reggie kept his head bowed, eyes fixed on the ground and his thoughts far away. He looked separate, different from the others. A little heavier. Delsin, too - his eyes, always sparking with some sort of mischief, looked dull and tired. Thick shadows hung under their lids, and he had buttoned up his numerous jackets and shirts into a defensive cocoon. Betty nodded, looking back to the younger boy. "I gotcha," she said, lips twitching up into a small, careful smile. "You know you and your friends are always welcome to stay as long as you like."

Delsin released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thanks, Betty."

"Anytime." The woman stepped aside, bringing the door with her, giving the group room to each file into the Longhouse. "In you get."

The Conduits entered the building, Delsin first with Fetch and Eugene at his side, eager to see the place their friend had grown up in. Reggie lingered at the rear, wiping his boots on the door mat and attempting the wipe away the perpetual layer of water on his skin. Betty held out a hand, her round and wrinkled cheeks lifted in a kind smile. Reggie accepted the hand and allowed himself to be guided into his ancestral home. Betty shut the door behind him, then laid a bony, weathered hand on his back. "Welcome back, sweetheart."

The darkness in Reggie visage lifted, just enough to allow a small ray of hope to peek through. "Thank you."

Heat tugged at the corner of Betty's eyes, so she patted the man's back before shuffling away to find some towels, her slipper-clad feet sliding across the wooden floor creating a soft, familiar sound. Reggie slicked back his hair from his face. Dry, it would stand up in a short, professional style befitting a cop. Wet, he mused, it looked like the hairstyle of many an angsty, emo teenager. He flicked some of the moisture on his fingers onto the floor and squished into the common room, his bare feet leaving puddles in his wake.

"...You see that scratch right there? I left that when I was like, three."

"Didn't anyone ever fix it?"

"Nah, no one ever notices it so we never painted over it."

"It's almost like you were always a little shit, D."

"Fetch, you hurt me so."

They didn't see or hear him come in. Delsin was regaling them with tales from his childhood, pointing to various cracks or tears in the furniture, to small scars on his body, memories falling from his lips and spilling from his tongue. Reggie paused, reluctant to interrupt but also afraid to sit down on the furniture. The damp - it'd make everything moldy, and then somebody would have to clean it up. Better to stand. At last his younger brother caught sight of him standing in the doorway and his mouth fell shut, the casual smirk falling away and replaced by a worried frown. His two friends stopped too, their eyes and throats filling up with feelings they lacked the ability to say. Delsin opened and closed his mouth numerous times, before deciding on silence. Reggie sighed. His voice rumbled deep in his chest. "I need a nap."

Betty then came in beside him, moving to one of the couches and tearing off the covers with a business-like efficiency. In her arms she held a pile of thick towels and some sheet of plastic, all now being laid across the furniture cushions. "So you don't get everything all wet," she cooed. "The rest of you are welcome to sleep anywhere you like."

"Thanks Betty," Delsin said. Then he looked to the people at his side, glaring pointedly.

"Uh," Fetch stuttered. "Y-Yeah, thanks."

"Thank you, Miss Betty," Eugene murmured.

Betty fluffed the pillows on Reggie's couch until she was satisfied, then looked up, hands hanging at her side. She looked at the three Conduits, her eyes taking in every aspect of their appearance. A slow, weary sigh escaped her. "Get some rest. I have a feeling you'll need it."

Little happened in the half hour or so that followed. Delsin gave his friends a small tour of the Longhouse, Reggie collapsed into his now water-proofed couch, and soon the group of Conduits all slept. Reggie slept still and quiet, his normal snoring absent. Eugene slept in a tight little ball, his chin tucked to his knees and his fingers twitching every so often. Fetch fell asleep sitting up, her head perched in the palm of her head as she reclined in a chair.

It took some time for Seattle's Hero to sleep. Things he couldn't quite see, couldn't quite name, flashed in front of his vision when he closed his eyes. His brain hummed and filled with noise he couldn't quiet. Instead of sprawling out with his limbs all akimbo and his back flat on the bed, he twisted and turned, his body flush with sweat. When he finally did succumb to a light, fitful sleep, the same visions he saw after sharing Reggie's power plagued him.

**Chrome, leather, glowing eyes, fear**

**Voices, low and dangerous, murmuring, cold, cold world and cold voices**

**Glass, someone tapping on the glass**

**Crying**

**Then clarity, just enough, still blurry, but words**

**"She's asking to see Delsin."**

**"Who the hell is that?"**

**"Her name for him."**

**"Forget her. We have more important things to do - just get them out of here."**

**Distant screaming, shouting, pain**

**"Go!"**

Delsin woke up.


	6. Trouble On The Homefront

The Conduit jolted up in bed. His heart pounded a million miles a minute, his breath came in fast, shallow gasps, and his body was slick with sweat. Delsin's hair hung limply from his head, tickling the sides of his face as his hands clenched the fabric of the couch with a white-knuckled grip. He looked all around him, taking in his surroundings with a wild, feverish gaze, before his eyes focused and he remembered where he was. He settled back onto the cushions of his couch, when a gentle whisper came and startled him all over again. "Delsin?"

"Reg?" His head turned, and his eyes having adjusted to the dark room, caught sight of his brother looking back at him.

"Were you having the dreams too?"

Delsin nodded. "What...what are they? I got them after we..."

"After you absorbed my power, I know. I saw you, poking around in my head, and I saw those...visions, too. I've never seen those things before, Delsin." Reggie's voice trembled at the latter statement. "Is...that normal?"

The younger brother shook his head. "No, bro, it's not. I've never...I've never seen that before."

Fetch yawned and stretched languidly. "Is this about the shit up on the roof?"

"Yeah," came the brothers' reply.

"I meant to ask - what was all that?" Her brow furrowed as she re-did her ponytail, the band having fallen out in her sleep. "You guys do your magic thingy, but instead of just going to sleep for a few hours you guys freak out and start puking all over everything. Then you guys start talking about 'seeing' shit. Is there an explanation for that?"

"If you'd been paying attention, neon-girl, you'd know we were just discussing how it's a recent development," Delsin responded. "I've never..._we've _never had that be a thing before."

Eugene groaned. "I'm trying to sleep," he mumbled, pulling a pillow up over his head. Fetch reached over and pinched his thigh, eliciting a yelp and a blush from the teenage boy.

"Pay attention, 'Gene. I gotta feeling this here's some serious shit."

The video conduit grumbled assent and sat up on the couch, taking his glasses from a nearby table and sliding them over his ears, then tucking his knees to his chest and looking to the rest of the group. Delsin sighed and pulled his beanie further down on his head. "It just...it just felt weird, you know? Like, I know what it feels like to be in someone's head. There's a certain quality to it, a weird surreal feeling you get where everything's dreamlike and colorful and weird. This felt - this felt different. Less dreamlike and more warped, twisted. Like a nightmare."

"But not a nightmare," Reggie murmured.

Fetch leaned back into her chair. "You know, I know a girl for shit like this. A hypnotist, specializing in dream stuff. She doubles as a fortuneteller, as well. Bit of a hippy type, but hey, she might be useful."

"_Or_," Reggie added, frowning, "we could go to a licensed psychiatrist and work this out like normal people."

"Hate to tell you, man-" Delsin started, then stopped, his mouth held agape and his words kept tucked inside his throat. He spoke again, but this time with a lower voice, his tone less snarky. "I hate to tell you this, Reg, but we're not normal."

A heavy silence fell, choking any further conversation until Eugene, of all people, spoke, his voice little more than a whisper. "I might be able to do something." The others in the room turned to him, each wearing respective looks of surprise and intrigue on their face. The geek flinched under the intense attention of his friends and looked about to take his words back, then decided against it. "I-I guess...I dunno, I was t-thinking I could check some databases on Conduit activities, like A-Augustine's stuff in Curden Cay, and see if anyone else had similiar...symptoms."

A moment passed for consideration. "Sounds like a good idea to me," Delsin said.

"Better than a hypnotist," Reggie grumbled.

"Better than a psychiatrist," Fetch retorted.

The geek and the Bannerman let out a weary sigh, when the distant smell and sounds of cooking meat and people talking wafted into the room. "I guess that's dinner," Delsin remarked.

Reggie sighed, and his arm rose to cover his eyes, the limb hanging limply over his head. "I don't want to talk to anyone. Least of all anyone else in the tribe."

The younger brother sighed, standing and squeezing his brothers hand as he walked past him to the door. "I'll bring you something to eat and tell people to leave you be." He paused. "You know we gotta tell them sometime."

"...I know. Just not today."

"Will do, brother. You sit tight - I'll bring you back some food." Delsin glanced over his shoulder to his two others friends. "You guys coming?" Fetch nodded, her ponytail secured. She walked past him into the hallway, her footsteps fading until absorbed into the rest of the distant noise. "Eugene?"

The boy hesitated. "No thanks, Delsin. I'll stay here - with Reggie."

The Bannerman swallowed and nodded, then vanished down the hall along with Fetch, leaving Eugene and Reggie alone in the room. The teen sat stiff, knees pressed together, his hoodie up high and hands folded in his lap. Reggie lay so still, Eugene thought he'd fallen asleep again, only to jump in surprise when the older man spoke. "Eugene Sims, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Isn't your mom in Congress? She'd voted to pass the regulations against bio-terrorists."

"...Uh-huh."

The arm shifted and one dark eye peeked out at the teen. "You seem like a good kid, Eugene."

The boy in question pinked slightly. "Thanks."

Reggie's arm fell from his face, leaving him to stare up at the Longhouse ceiling. "What was it like for you? When you...changed?" He swallowed. "I ask, because...well, I don't mean to pry, but it seems like you'd have a different reaction than Delsin or Abigail."

"You mean Fetch?"

"Yeah. They...they enjoy it. I know they do. I know about the girl's past, what she's been through, so I know she didn't embrace immediately it the same way Delsin did, but they understand each other. They like their powers, revel in them. How did you deal with it?"

Eugene took a few seconds to consider it. "It...i-it wasn't easy, at first. You get so used to being quiet, to slipping under the radar, and suddenly you're part of something and it feels like everyone in the world is staring at you, judging you. And the way my parents looked at me..." The teen trailed off. But his voice began again, stronger. "Then there was Augustine, and I had to fight through that. But, it just...it's hard, in the beginning, because you're trying to figure out why you have these powers, why _you_, why not someone else, like Delsin or Fetch, who know who they are and what they want to do.

"But it's a matter of finding your purpose. I know, I guess I always knew, though Delsin helped me figure it out, that I wanted to- to use my powers the same way I used them in my game. I hid in my game because I could be who I wanted, there. Helping the innocent and punishing the cruel. Then I got my powers, and...I realized I could be that in real life. Even with who I am, with all my...a-anxieties, I get to be a hero because of my powers. I get to help people. And I guess...have a standard to live up to, having people need you and care about you, that...that helps you deal with it."

The geek stopped, looking up from the floor to the listening man. "You're a cop. Cops help people...m-most of the time. Maybe you should do that."

Soliloquy done, Eugene's cheeks flushed and he pulled his hoodie closer around him. From the backpack he'd brought with him, he retrieved his characteristic laptop, placing it across his lap and letting the glow of the computer screen mask his face. Reggie's lips curled up in a gentle smile. "Thanks, Eugene. That helps a lot."

Despite the headphones covering his ears and the sharp clack of his fingers along the keyboard, the pleased coloring of his cheeks indicated the geek heard the compliment. Reggie then rolled over, going back to sleep, leaving the arch-angel to his work.

* * *

Some time later, Delsin and Fetch returned with platters of food across their arms. They found a lightly snoring Reggie and a focused Eugene. Sharing a smirk, they placed plates of food beside their respective recipients before taking their seats. "So, 'Gene," Fetch prodded. "Find anything?"

Eugene's brow furrowed and his mouth opened as if to say something, but his lips shut at Betty's entrance. "How are we doing?" she asked.

"Good, Betty," came their reply. "Thank you."

The old woman smiled and eased into a chair, leaning back against the cushioned wood with a sigh. "Sometimes I hate being old," Betty said. "You kids don't mind if I sit here for a little while, do you?"

"Nah, Betty. It's cool." Delsin smiled.

The woman's eyes crinkled up, the crow's feet pulling at her skin. "You're such a good boy, Delsin."

Delsin preened under the compliment but was hushed by a smirk from Fetch. "Shut up," he said, giving her a light shove. "Eugene, go on."

The teen shifted in his seat, looking like he wanted to become one with the furniture. "'Kay. I've been reading...reports, from employees at Curden Cay. Stuff about 'recruitment,' 'experimentation,' and... 'training.'"

"Sounds like pleasant reading," Fetch murmured.

"It is." Eugene's fingers flew across the computer keyboard, and again he frowned. "But I keep finding things - classified stuff, at the federal level. The D.U.P was a branch of the military, but this...this is internal, and weird. I'm trying to get in but I can only ever find pieces of things before I get kicked out. They've got extensive security running all through their databases," Eugene explained. "I'm good, but I only ever have so much time before it reboots and I could get caught."

"You're saying you're breaking into government files and doing incredibly illegal things, on my wi-fi?" Betty questioned. At the looks of the people around her, she pursed her lips. "I know what wi-fi is. I may be old, but I'm not senile. Yet."

Eugene flushed. "I-I'm sorry, Miss Betty-"

"No, no, it's fine, go right ahead," the woman sighed. "The damage has already been done, and besides; finding out what's wrong with my boys is more important than a life in prison." She winked at the teen.

The geek shook his head as if shaking away the embarrassment, and carried on. "I can find most information about Augustine and her stuff, but I keep bumping into weird, encoded files whenever I search for specific Conduit experimentation. The only bits and pieces I can look at all mention this guy named 'Kessler,' and refer to the event known as the 'Blast.' That's the explosion that happened seven years ago, the one that created all the Conduits."

"But there was an explosion after that," Delsin said, leaning forward in his chair. "One to create them, and another to kill them."

"I remember that," Fetch said, scratching her chin. "That was what - five, six years ago? Anyone outside the blast radius survived, but a crazy amount of people, even normies, died. Conduits, all gone."

Eugene bobbed his head up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Yes. 'Cole MacGrath,' known to many as the first, great Conduit." His eyes flickered across the computer screen, and he spoke as though reading from an article. "'Through circumstances never revealed to the public, Cole MacGrath was at the center of the explosion known as the 'Blast,' that first instilled bio-terrorist powers in the general population. After winning the hearts and minds of those in Empire City, he traveled south to New Marais while a new threat, known only as the 'Beast' terrorized the east coast. Once the 'Beast' reached MacGrath, after a dramatic conflict, MacGrath sacrificed himself and all other Conduits in New Marais to destroy the 'Beast.'

"While MacGrath's legacy kept Conduits in the public eye, and seen for a time as 'advanced humanoids,' experimentation by the military and a movement begun by government agent Brooke Augustine led to the invention of the term bio-terrorist, blah blah..." Eugene trailed off.

"We know all this, angel," Fetch snorted. "Tell us something new."

"Oh!" Eugene bounced in his seat. "Right. The reason I bring it up, is that I think Cole and this Kessler guy knew each other. But the only big thing I can find about Kessler is that he abruptly took over a group known as the 'First Sons,' an secret society dating back to the Salem witch trials."

"So we start there," Delsin declared, cracking his knuckles.

"Not as easy as it sounds," Eugene cautioned him. "According to what I'm reading, they were all exterminated, either by state police forces, Cole himself, or the explosion of New Marais. And secret societies aren't known for keeping records, let alone records I can hack into."

The group let out a communal disappointed sigh. "So what about MacGrath, then," Fetch questioned. "He's dead, but is there any way we can track him down? A wife, a kid maybe?"

Eugene took a minute to work his computer, scrolling and typing for a time before replying. "No wife, no kids. A brother, but he lives on the other side of the country and supposedly had nothing to do with Cole. A girlfriend who died a few weeks following the 'Blast,' numerous government associates, all dead - wait! I found a guy. 'Zeke Dunbar,' friend and associate." Eugene frowned at the computer screen, fingers twitching with irritation. "He's got little to no online presence. All I can find is a couple of old blog posts saying he used his friendship with Cole to get a couple dates."

"Where is he now?" Delsin asked.

"Uhm...Give me a minute." More typing. "Apparently he moved to California following Cole's death and that's the last anyone's ever heard of him. No interviews, no book deals, nothing."

"Seems like a guy trying to get away from something," Delsin mused.

"Potentially us," Fetch added.

"Regardless," the Akomish man said, "he's the only lead we got. I guess we're going to California."

"Betty?" The conversation ground to a halt. Reggie, who'd woken up at some point during the exchange and listened in, thought to look over at the old woman settled in her chair and saw Betty's usual apple-cheeked and pleasant face had gone blank. Her chin neared her chest as her eyes bored holes in the floor, staring off into nothingness, her bony hands clasping each other in her lap. "Betty, you alright?"

"What did you say the name of that group was, sweetheart?" Betty asked, ignoring the question and looking to Eugene. "The one run by that man you called 'Kessler.'"

Eugene swallowed and scrolled back up on an unseen webpage. "...'The First Sons.'"

"And you said they're all gone?"

"...Yes, Miss Betty."

"Betty, why do you care?" Delsin frowned. "What's the matter?"

The woman didn't respond at first, but after a moment stood and spoke. "It just sounds familiar. I might've heard about it on the news, back when all this nonsense was goin' on." She glanced out a window. "It's getting late. I think I'll go hit the hay. You kids sleep well."

As Betty hobbled out of the room, no chorus of 'Yes Miss Betty' followed her, just eyes and silence. "She lied," Reggie murmured.

"I know that," Delsin snapped. "But the question is why."

"Whoa, wait," Fetch said, raising her hands with palms out. "How do you guys know that, exactly?"

Delsin rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Abigail? She _reeked _of weirdness."

"Most old people do," the woman shrugged. "And don't call me Abigail."

"In any case," Reggie frowned, "If Betty is hiding something, there's gotta be a reason for it."

"Do you think...maybe she's like, a retired spy or something?" Eugene offered, eyebrows raised.

"Betty? She couldn't hurt a fly." Delsin snorted. "But why would she hide something? She's never hidden anything from us before."

"I'd argue she has," Reggie replied. "Plenty of stuff, when we were kids. We just didn't notice, because, y'know, that's what 'to hide something' means."

"God, enough," Fetch groaned. "Unless we're willing to go accost an old lady, which I know you two babies won't do, we can't do anything about it. Let's just get some sleep, then hitch a ride to California tomorrow morning. Okay?" The group sighed in a general rumble of assent. "Okay."

Decision made, the Conduits went their separate ways until morning.

* * *

**I realise I should have responded to this question a long time ago, but...no, I don't plan for White Rabbit to make an appearance in this story. I've never actually played the DLC or have any interest in it, so unfortunately she will not be present in my canon. I appreciate the question, though.**

**So, the plot thickens, am I right? Mentioning previous games, involving old characters, nice old ladies keeping secrets...who knows what's going to happen? I mean, I do, obviously, but you don't, and that's the point. I'm clever, I promise. Thanks for reading, and I swear I'll update soon...I'm all inspired now. Hehe.**


	7. Free And Not-So-Free

The next morning Eugene 'arranged' for them to get a plane ride to California. Reggie grumbled something about 'depriving people of tickets they paid good money for' but Delsin assured his brother it was for a good cause. There was nothing to pack, although a few goodbyes were said. Reggie found some spare clothes, a jacket and pair of socks and boots, and for a moment he almost looked like himself again. Before long the quartet of Conduits made their way to California. The sun still shone above them when they arrived, causing some slight disorientation from the differing time zones, but it's not as though they had much choice.

The group took a seat on a bench located just outside the airport entrance. "'Kay, Eugene. Work your magic," Delsin said.

The gamer pulled his laptop from his ever-present backpack and his fingers danced across the keyboard. "I don't have much. I just know the neighborhood and general area."

"Are you saying we're going to have to go door-to-door, 'Gene?" Fetch asked, crossing her arms.

"I-I guess."

"Oh darn," Reggie said, his voice deadpan as he stood from the bench. "We actually have to work to gain information. What an awful plan."

"Don't be a dick, Reg," Delsin said, giving his brother a light push to the side. "Just tell us where to go, Eugene. We'll figure it out."

* * *

'We'll figure it out' ended up an optimistic statement, because despite Delsin's tendency to assume everything would just work out, Fetch's original thought turned out to be correct. After spending several hours on a bus headed to a faraway and isolated small town, Eugene almost had a panic attack. "There's no internet!" he shouted, and his eyes grew to the size of saucers behind his glasses. "T-There's no internet!"

"Of course there's no internet, 'Gene, we're in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. What did you expect?" Fetch asked.

"There's a-always internet!" Eugene's typing grew panicked. "What am I going to do?"

"Hey - hey, hey, hey, Eugene, it's alright," Delsin soothed him. One lazy arm got squeezed around Eugene's shoulders, pulling the teen to the older man's side. "I'm sure there's a connection in town. It's just 'cause we're on the road, and no matter what satellite you hack into you're gonna have some problems. Just chill, alright?"

Eugene nodded nervously. "O-Okay."

"Okay."

Fetch's fingers fiddled with the length of her ponytail. "It'll pass, buddy. Hey - I've got my deck o' cards in my pocket. You wanna go?" Eugene assented, and thus the crisis was averted. Later on, even Reggie asked to be dealt in, and the eerie quality of the vacant but for them bus was lessened.

Of course, then they arrived at the small town, and yet another obstacle loomed in their way. The town was quiet - ridiculously so. Small, well-kept, polite and tight-knit, it seemed as though every person the group passed knew each other, and had for a long time. Causing, of course, a number of dubious glances to be thrown their way. Outsiders seemed unwelcome enough, let alone a couple of magical degenerate outsiders.

The neighborhood Eugene said housing the mysterious Mr. Dunbar looked old, a bit unkempt but peaceful. There was a sprawling desert all 'round, with mountains visible off in the distance, and the color of the buildings reflected their sandy surroundings. The group started going up and down the streets, knocking on doors, asking for the man, only to receive suspicious looks and a disgruntled rumble of dissent before the door got slammed in their faces.

After an afternoon with nothing to show, they began looking for somewhere to get lunch in the business area of town, when Delsin stopped. "Wait."

The rest of the Conduits stopped, looking back to where Delsin had halted. "What's up, D?" Fetch question.

The Bannerman gestured to the text printed on the glass window of the store. "'Cole's Repairs - For All Your Household Needs.'" The group looked at each other, letting this knowledge simmer unspoken, when Delsin pushed through the door of the shop, a light bell tinkling when it swung open. The store was small - a few displays of things supposedly fixed, some advertisements for tools, and a counter. The Conduits all started when a voice came in from the back. "I'll be right there!"

The voice sounded a little gritty, with a distinctly non-Californian accent, and soon a stout man with a thick scruff around his neck and a head of dark hair came through a door behind the counter. Adjusting his glasses that looked small and delicate compared to the rest of his frame, he gave the group a toothy smile. "Can I help you?"

Another look passed through the group. Delsin approached first. "We're ah...looking for a man named Dunbar? Zeke Dunbar."

"...And why exactly are you looking for him?" The man behind the counter said. Something changed in his expression, something that unsettled the Akomish man. The smile seemed more forced, the man's eyes a little colder, a little harder.

"We, uh..." Fetch came up beside her friend, looking as earnest as her personality would allow. "We need to know about Cole."

The smile froze on the man's face, then with one swift movement he pulled a gun out from the back of his pants, making the whole group jump back. "I always knew that fuckin' name would come back to haunt me," the man whispered, the smile gone. The gun was trained right between Delsin's eyes, and looked like this man had held a gun many times before. "But no! I had to do something to honor him. I couldn't leave it all behind. _Shit._"

"W-We're not with anyone!" Delsin shouted, his hands level with his ears. "We swear. Not the D.U.P, not the government, not anybody. I'm Delsin Rowe." Despite the severity of the situation, a slight grin tugged at the man's lips. "Maybe you've heard of me?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, I heard of you. That Conduit out in Seattle, the one that put that Augustine bitch behind bars." The grip tightened on the gun. "Prove it."

Delsin raised an eyebrow. "If you insist." In a flash, a cloud of smoke poured from the Conduits fingertips, and he lunged forward in a burst of cinder, dashing over the counter and tearing the gun from the man's hand. The man stumbled back, face flush with sweat and hands pressed flat against the wall as Delsin reformed, his fingers wrapped around the gun. Delsin nodded towards the rest of the group, still on the other side of the counter. "That's my brother, Reggie, and my friends; Fetch and Eugene. We're not here to hurt you - we just need answers."

The man swallowed. "It doesn't look like I have much of a choice."

Delsin shrugged. "I'm not about to kill you if you say no, but...it'd make things a helluva lot easier."

Considering this, the man nodded, and stuck out a hand. "...I'm Jed- I mean, Zeke. Zeke Dunbar."

Delsin took the proffered hand and have it a firm shake, handing the man the gun back afterwards. "Delsin Rowe."

The man, now known as Zeke, glanced out the window of the shop. "We're gonna go in the back now, in case there's anybody watching us. But my wife and kids are back there, you got me? You don't call me Zeke in front of them, you don't say anything bad in front of them, you so much as touch them and I'll put a bullet in your head faster than you can do that weird smoky shit. You got me?" Without waiting for a reply, he glared at the rest of the group. "That goes for the rest of you, too."

Each Conduit nodded and agreed to the terms. Zeke swallowed. "Alright. Glad we understand each other." He turned to go back through the door he'd come from, waving behind him. "Follow me."

The group followed him behind the counter and through the door. Zeke led them into what looked like a living room, complete with a computer, couch, television, rug...it looked homely. "Me and my family live behind the shop," Zeke explained in a murmur.

A woman and two small children sat on the couch, watching some sort of overly happy children's show, and the woman looked up at Zeke's entrance. "Hey babe, what's-" Her voice halted once the rest of the group filed in. "Jed?"

"Me and these nice people are gonna have a chat, Penny," Zeke murmured. "I'm gonna need the bourbon."

The woman looked nervously between the troupe of young people standing behind her husband and the grim look on her husband's face and nodded. She hurried into another room, leaving the two small children, a girl and a boy, alone on the couch. As Zeke (Jed?) led them to a small dining table in the back, he ruffled the kids' hair as he passed. "Hi daddy," the girl chirped.

"Hey, princess," Zeke said quietly. "Do your old man a favor and just keep on watching that show, okay?"

"'Kay daddy."

The group took their seats around the dining room table, with Penny placing a half-empty bottle of liquor at Zeke's side. "Everything okay, baby?" she asked, her voice high and concerned.

Shadows curved under Zeke's eyes. "Go watch the kids, Penny. Make sure they don't hear anything." Penny swallowed and nodded, walking away to join her children on the couch. Suitably disturbed, the Conduits shifted in their seats, unsure of what to say or do. Zeke took a swig of liquor, not bothering to pour it in a glass, and a few moments passed as he savored the taste, then swallowed. "So," he said. "You're here about Cole."

The rest of the people at the dinner table seemed reluctant to reply. "...Yes," said Reggie, much to the surprise of the others. "My brother- well, you probably know this, but he's not a normal Conduit. And we've both been having these weird, vision things, so we started looking into it."

"Yeah," Fetch interrupted, her and Delsin's brother sharing a look. "And the records we looked at were all secret and classified and stuff. We found a little bit about this man named Kessler, and thought he might be connected to Cole, so...we tried finding someone who knew Cole."

"Which was you," Delsin finished.

Another heavy few seconds followed as Zeke swallowed, sighed, and took another drink. "Yup. That's me. I was Cole's number one guy, his best friend. I was with him the whole way." His grip tightened around the bourbon bottle. "I've seen a lotta shit, kids. And I've spent the last few years trying very hard to stay away from it all. I hope you realize that now I've been found, I'm gonna have to take my family and leave. I'm not going to be able to come back here."

"...We didn't know," Delsin said. "We..."

"I know you didn't. Ain't much we can do about it now." The alcohol swirled inside the bottle as Zeke rolled it in his hand. "But I'm the last person alive that remembers, really remembers what happened back then. Probably for the best I tell it to someone before I die - gotta make sure nobody forgets. Gotta make sure the government doesn't hush it all up." Another few moments passed, then the man's eyes took on a faraway look, and he began his story.

"...Cole was a good kid. Did a lot to piss off his parents, did a lot for the hell of it, but so did I, and damn if we weren't closer than brothers. He was closer to me than his own brother, at least. Cole was smart, too, just didn't care enough to go in with all the college kids, put in the effort for a degree that might not even do him any good. So he became a delivery boy." Zeke trailed off. His eyes widened behind his glasses. "Then he got the call.

"Somebody told him to open the package. Cole did, and that started the Blast. A huge goddamn explosion that wrecked Empire City. In the remnant of the city, Conduits ran wild - when they weren't being hunted down and killed, of course. Cole learned how to use his powers, and...we saw a lot of things. Learned a lot. Got manipulated by some government agents, killed a lotta people, and met a group called the 'First Sons.'"

"Run by Kessler," Eugene murmured.

"It wasn't supposed to be," Zeke said. "But Kessler came and took it over, made it his laboratory, filled it with experiments and cruelty and the worst shit you can imagine." The man sighed. "When I heard about Curden Cay...it's like that old quote, 'those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it.' I'd seen it happen before, and here it was, happening again. But me and Cole...between the two of us, we fought off the 'First Sons' and offed Kessler."

"But who was Kessler?" Delsin asked, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward. "Why did he do all this?"

Zeke took another long drink of bourbon. "...He was Cole. Y'see, Kessler wasn't really Kessler, or, well, he was, but he was also my buddy. In another...world, Kessler was Cole, and he married his girlfriend, had two daughters, and was a Conduit. He had powers, time travel and shit. But then the Beast came. I don't know how, or why...Cole never told me that much. Sometimes I wonder if he knew himself. But Kessler watched as the Beast destroyed his world, and decided to go back in time, making sure this time he'd have the power to defeat the Beast.

"So Kessler went back in time, took over the First Sons, and made all sorts of technology so Cole, this Cole, the one we have in this world, would be powerful enough to stop the Beast. Kessler created a device called the Ray Sphere, which acts as a sort of power creator, or absorber, or some kinda shit...I don't remember much. Of course, eventually...Cole didn't take too kindly to having his life ruined by the guy, although he didn't know Kessler was him, or used to be, or...whatever. Just before he died, Kessler told Cole about the Beast.

"At this point, Cole had his powers, and he had me. So we headed down to New Marais, where we met a helluva lotta people, and some serious shit went down. I'm sure you all remember the destruction of the east coast, and the Battle of New Marais. Cole sacrificed himself, and almost everyone else in his life, so he could see the Beast go down, kill the thing he'd be made to kill." Zeke took another long drink, wiping his face with a dirty forearm, his eyes wide and unfocused. "I laid Cole to rest, after that. I remember putting him on the water, watching him float away...and that single crack of lightning over his coffin."

Zeke took another desperate drink. "Everybody I knew died. Cole, Trish, Lucy, Moya, Nix, Wolfe, Kessler... everybody who'd ever gotten involved in that whole goddamn mess ended up dead. And I didn't want to be one of them. I knew people'd be after me, looking to shut me up. Especially after that whole Augustine thing. The bitch had the nerve to call us monsters, after everything we'd done..." Zeke let out a deep, pained sigh. "It's not what Cole would have wanted. None of this is. But it doesn't matter. They didn't want anyone to remember Cole in the first place, so I ran away. Went as far as I could, and one thing led to another..." He gestured to the family on the couch, Penny casting nervous glances towards the dining room table when she thought no one was looking.

"Now I've got a wife, and kids, and I'm just trying to stay alive. I'm the last one left from the old days, and I'm not going to go down without a fight." Lifting the bottle to his lips a final time, Zeke downed the last of it, then slammed it on the table. "That's what I remember. If you wanna know about his experiments, you're gonna need government clearance." He looked between Delsin and Reggie. "If you're Conduits and something's wrong with your heads, I'll bet a dollar that it can be traced back to him and his craziness somehow. But you're gonna need a look at those files to know the truth."

"Mama!" wailed one of the kids. "My show!"

Everyone in the room stopped to look back at the children, then at the television when a news anchor suddenly flashed across the screen. "_Breaking News_," the reporter announced. "Brooke Augustine has just been released from prison."

"_What?"_ came the shocked cry of the Conduits. Jumping from their seats, everyone not currently at the couch went and crowded around it.

"_Now confined to house arrest, Augustine has been confirmed in her release._" The screen changed to a shot of the president speaking from a podium. "'It is unfortunate that someone in our own government has gone so far. But this woman has been a loyal supporter of my administration, and I of hers. There is no one saying her crimes are not severe, but some information has come to light that the legality of her imprisonment make be in question. She will be kept under house arrest while her case is being revisited. Thank you.'"

"'In question?'" Delsin repeated, mouth agape in shock. "She imprisoned and tortured thousands of people!"


	8. A Proposal

Prison gives a person a lot to think about.

Hours and hours of staring at the walls, just wondering. Pondering. Waiting. Brooke Augustine was a patient woman, and she'd waited before. But not like this. Not when she didn't even have anything to wait for, except maybe death. She wondered if they'd kill her, then decided against it. She was too powerful, had too many supporters for the death penalty. No, a lifetime in prison would be her punishment, and she knew this.

But something made her wait.

Time didn't have much of a function in a prison cell, so she couldn't have told you what time it was when it happened. But she remembered the circumstances. A dark cell, an orange jumpsuit. Sitting in bed, staring at the ceiling. Waiting.

Augustine blinked. A rough hand pushed open the slot that allowed people to look in. "Get up," said the even rougher voice. "Someone's here to see you."

Brooke stood, and waited. The door of her cell opened, and two gun barrels poked through. Flanked by two outfitted soldiers, a guard came in, holding the handcuffs that doubled as Conduit poison, that muffled one's powers until they couldn't use them. Brooke held out her wrists, and the handcuffs clamped into place. A rough push knocked her forward, and with two grips on her arms she was escorted to some sort of room, a dark room with a single desk and two chairs, facing each other across the desk. Four soldiers, rifles in hand, stood at each corner of the room. The door slammed shut. Brooke waited.

Soon, sooner than expected, the door opened again, and a small figure stepped through. They wore a thick, heavy trenchcoat, and walked with a cane, the cane striking the floor with a dull _pap _with each shuffle of the figure's unseen feet. The figure, face hidden underneath some sort of black veil, took a slow, pained seat in the chair opposite Brooke. A moment passed, then a raspy voice came scratching through the veil. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Augustine."

"And you, miss...?" Brooke heard the voice as female, and made an educated guess. The raspy voice chuckled softly.

"You don't know me. But I suppose there's no harm in letting you know." Pale, bony hands too small for the trenchcoat sleeves lifted the veil up, and Brooke choked back a noise of horror. A face, a woman's face, once beautiful, now jagged and scarred. Gray skin and a bald head, each covered in numerous scars. Dark eyes, once shaded by thick lashes, were bloodshot and vast. There seemed to be a world of darkness and pain within this woman's eyes. "My name is Sasha. I don't remember a last name. Technically, I no longer exist." A harsh, venomous chuckle escaped the pale woman's throat. Her lips were chapped and flaky. Something dark lingered on her lips, only to be licked away by a dry tongue.

"...Sasha." Brooke let the word settle on her tongue. "Should I know that name?"

"Probably. If you know your history, you would find it means a great deal." The woman cocked her head to the side. "But you seem like the time to make history, not read it."

The compliment meant nothing to her. Like a dart striking steel, it bounced off, and Brooke went on. "Why are you here?"

"Mm...the same reason you are, Augustine." Something in the dark eyes flashed. "We are both women, scorned by very powerful men. And I come to make you an offer."

"An offer?" Brooke kept her voice cool and light. She was Brooke Augustine - and she was not to be trifled with. "I would like to know what you think I have that benefits you, and what you think you have that benefits me."

Sasha closed her eyes and let a sharp smirk curve her lips, and stretched a neck too thin to possibly hold up her head. "I understand you have a grudge against Delsin Rowe...and his friends."

Something stirred in Brooke's chest. "You could say that."

"I offer you this - I get you out of this place, and you kill him. And his brother."

Brooke's eyes narrowed. "His brother is already dead."

"Not so." Sasha's eyes opened, the returning darkness sending a chill down Brooke's spine. "He is very much alive, and now has powers, just like Delsin."

A few moments passed as Brooke considered this. "...What makes you think I could kill them now, when they beat me before?"

"Because now, my dear," Sasha purred, lips parting to reveal black-stained teeth. "You have motivation. Rowe desired revenge, and he got it. Now...you may respond in kind."

Then Sasha raised a pale, bony hand, sleeve falling away to reveal an arm divided by dark veins. She pointed, and licked her too-dry lips, and one of the soldiers stepped forward to release her. When the soldier came to her side and unlocked the cuffs, Brooke examined the man's face. His eyes looked unfocused and distant, and darkness oozed from his lips, dotting his clear visor with a thick, opaque fluid.

The cuffs fell from Brooke's wrists, and she lifted her hands away hesitantly. "What's the catch?" she asked.

"No catch." The pale woman gave Augustine a black-toothed smile. "I give you an army, and you kill Delsin and his brother."

Brooke rubbed her wrists, and furrowed her brow. "...Who are you?"

"I told you. I don't exist." Sasha stood. She replaced the veil once more over her face, and adjusted the cane under her thin palm. "Do you accept my offer?"

Augustine thought about it. Even if she wanted to say no, which she wasn't entirely sure was true, she felt refusing this woman would not end in her favor. She extended a hand towards Sasha. "I do."

The pale woman took the hand in her own cold, dry one. Under the veil, she grinned. "Good."


	9. Honey, I'm Home

"Penny, we've got to go."

As the Conduits watched the news, dumbfounded and angry, Zeke stood from the dining room table and made the announcement. The plump blonde woman holding the children turned to her husband. "Jed? What do you mean?"

"We're going. Pack our things. I'll get the kids."

"Jed, I don't-"

"Penny." Zeke stared at his wife from behind his glasses.

"...I'll get the suitcases." Penny turned and reluctantly vanished down a hallway. Then Zeke turned to his guests.

"As for y'all," he said, "I've a feeling you've got business in Seattle."

The Conduits looked between each other, sharing their trepidation and uncertainty. "I guess we do," Delsin eventually replied.

"Mhm." Zeke hefted the bourbon bottle, about to take a sip, when a sigh escaped him and the bottle was again placed on the table. "And just so we're clear - you were never here. I was never here. You understand me?"

"Sure."

Zeke seemed unimpressed with the less-than-enthusiastic response, but he didn't press the point. "Daddy?" The older one, the girl, seemed caught between the strange figures beside her on the couch and the look in her father's eyes.

Something in Zeke softened, and he came over to the couch, using both arms to scoop up his children. The baby whined, drool dripping from it's lips, and the little girl gripped her small fingers into her daddy's stained shirt. Zeke gave the Conduits another stern, steely look. "Get out." A pause. "Please."

With that, he followed his wife down the hall. Delsin took a steadying breath and stood, wiping invisible dust from his jeans. "Let's get outta here."

"I'll drink to that," Fetch grumbled. Her eyes flickered to the bourbon on the table. "Speaking of which - you think Dunbar will mind if I borrow his liquor?"

"Are you even old enough to drink?" Reggie scoffed.

"Guys!" Delsin exclaimed. "Can we please…?"

"Yeah, yeah," came the mumbles of the group as they each left the building, emerging once again into the dry streets of the small Californian town.

Eugene tugged on Delsin's sleeve. "I don't like it, Delsin," he whispered.

Delsin frowned. "Like what, 'Gene?"

"It's weird." The teen looked uncomfortable, shifting back and forth on his feet. "I knew that the government was messed up, I guess, but this...this doesn't feel right. I just don't think Augustine would be let off the hook so easily. It doesn't make sense."

Delsin opened his mouth to give the geek an answer, but none came. He let out a low sigh. "I know, man. We're gonna have to stay on our toes." Then he raised his chin, his shoulders lifting back and chest out. His uncertainty disappeared. "But c'mon - we beat her before, and we'll do it again. We got nothing to worry about." Delsin grinned and threw his arm over Eugene's shoulders, guiding them both down the sidewalk.

"...I guess so."

* * *

After a brisk lunch and a _conveniently _re-routed flight out of California, the Conduits arrived back in Seattle late at night. "Ugh. Well, that's my sleep schedule gone," Fetch complained.

"No whining, neon girl," Delsin said. "We gotta go find Augustine."

"Now?" Eugene asked. "Delsin, i-it's the middle of the night. Do you even have all your powers?"

At the reminder, the Akomish man grimaced. After topping off with some generators in between travelling, he'd managed to regain access to some of his weaker abilities. Enough to dash and fire a few puffs of smoke, but he was still in the weird transition period of learning how to use his new powers. Unfortunately so was Reggie, which meant he had nobody to help him figure it out. "...Not...at the moment."

"We could go and just...talk to her." Reggie murmured. The three other Conduits stopped and stared at him, each displaying varying degrees of shock and disgust. "I'm just saying!" The cop held up both hands, palms out. "We could just do reconnaissance. There's no need to be violent. Besides - if she really does have the government's backing, we'd be doing more harm than good if we rushed in, guns blazing."

Delsin scowled, curling his hands into fists and staring off into nothing. "Fine," he spit. Smoke wafted up from his fingertips. "We'll go. And...we'll _try _not to be violent. But!" He raised a finger, and sparks skittered into the air. "If she starts anything, I can't promise _I _won't finish it."

"How poetic." Fetch shoved the Bannerman's shoulder lightly. "Let's go, D."

Plump raindrops splattered around them, making Eugene, Delsin and Fetch hunker down in their coats. Reggie looked unaffected. The concrete webs built up around the city were in the process of being taken down, the construction equipment around them looking ominous in the darkness and rain. Augustine, so they learned, wasn't being held in her previous base of operations, the skyscraper surrounded by concrete and electric fences. Instead, she was being held as a guest in the Governor's mansion.

Which they now stood in front of.

Circled by well-kept hedges, the mansion looked big and imposing. The yellow streetlights sent shadows sprawling up the mansion's brick walls, and unheard figures shifted inside, their shadows visible through the windows. A black, pointed fence circled the grounds of the building, the only entrances being the two large gates near the front of the mansion. "So, how do we get in?" Eugene whispered.

"We knock." Delsin dashed through the fence, reforming on the other side, looking back at his friends expectantly. Fetch slipped over the fence in a stream of light, and Eugene went invisible and appeared beside his friends a few moments later, leaving Reggie alone on the sidewalk.

The older Rowe looked hesitant. Feeling the rain coat his clothes and skin, he knew he could use his powers just like the others. He could feel it, itching in his bones, eager to be used. He closed his eyes. So easy, so easy to just...just do what he wanted to. What he _needed _to. He could feel his body, turning to mist, pouring through the fence and becoming himself again. He could feel it...

"Reg?"

"...Yeah, I'm coming." Reggie opened his eyes and with a grunt, vaulted the fence, easing his legs over the top and landing on the other side.

Delsin let out a silent breath. "Alright." He turned away from the fence and started marching towards the front door, his friends at his heels. Smirking at the blinking security camera beside the door, he pushed the doorbell, letting a delicate, pleasant chime resonate from inside the building. Maybe a minute later, a selection of maybe half a dozen armed guards emerged around the sides of the building, flanking the group, keeping their distance as they aimed for the Conduits. "Wait," Delsin whispered, calming his friends.

Then, slow, deliberate footsteps descended an unseen staircase. Slim fingers undid a selection of locks, and the doorknob turned, opening to reveal a clean, classy and well-lit home. A familiar figure stood in the doorway. "Delsin," Augustine said. "So nice to see you."

The slick confidence Delsin had felt when walking up to the building melted away, replaced by a thick, choking heat. He held his fists closed, containing the cinders staining his palms. "Can we come in?" he asked. His voice grated in his throat.

"Of course." Augustine stepped aside. Delsin raised his chin and went inside, followed by the rest of the Conduits. The red-head closed the door behind them. The door was left unlocked. Augustine walked to a couch positioned in front of a burning fireplace and sat down, crossing her legs. A shiny modern anklet peeked under the edge of her pant leg, blinking at the Conduits. "Won't you please sit down?"

Kept stiff by contained anger, Delsin, Fetch and Eugene sat down, each facing their 'host.' Reggie remained standing, leaning beside the fire. Brooke's cool eyes turned to the older Rowe. "I hadn't expected to see you again," she said, voice smooth. "I'm surprised."

Reggie met the woman's gaze. "It came as a surprise to me, too."

Augustine gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug, before turning to the other Akomish man. "So. Why have you come to see me?"

It was a question that stumped the Conduit for a moment, though he hid it well. Why had they come again? They had decided they weren't going to fight, so...what was the point? "We want answers," Delsin said. His voice relayed a certainty he didn't feel.

"I see." Augustine nodded. "Presumably about my release, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Hm." Augustine turned away, staring off into space. "I'd appreciate it if you put your phone away, Mr. Sims," she said, eyes unfocused.

Eugene jumped in his chair, quickly shutting off his smartphone and putting it in his pocket. "S-sor..." He took a breath. "...Okay."

The red-head recrossed her legs. Again the anklet light appeared. "I'm under house arrest, if you didn't already know. I can't leave here until my case has been settled. As to why my case is under investigation...I couldn't tell you."

"Couldn't tell us because you don't know, or don't want _us_ to know?" The edge in Fetch's tone cut through the stiff atmosphere of the room.

A small smirk tugged at Augustine's lips. "I couldn't tell you."

"Well, I think you should." Delsin cut in, heat bubbling under his skin, boiling his blood. "Because if you don't, we could make things very bad for you." His voice descended into a growl.

"That sounds like a threat, Mr. Rowe," Augustine responded coolly. "You come into my house, where I am doing nothing wrong, and threaten me?" She chuckled, but the ice never left her eyes. "And you forget I am not powerless, Delsin."

Delsin acknowledged, without looking, the slow filter of bodyguards into the room. Equipped in high-tech gear, fingers wrapped around the trigger of their guns, at least a dozen of them subtly took their places at the exits of the house. "That might be true, but _you _forget, Augustine, that I beat you before, when you were even more powerful." His lips curled in a grin as his eyes sparked with flame.

The woman, having shown little weakness thus far, cracked slightly. Anger flashed in her gaze, before vanishing so quickly you might have thought it was never there at all. "Well, Delsin," she said, her voice venomous, "I can assure you that this time, I've evened the odds. And besides - our last encounter wasn't without casualties, was it?" Delsin watched her eyes drift pointedly to Reggie before flickering back to him.

The fire in Delsin's blood ignited. He stood abruptly from his chair and pushed both hands out in front of him, firing a gust of smoke and heat towards the woman reclined on the couch. Cinder mixed with stone torn from the walls of the room, and dust filled the air as a barrage of gunfire came speeding his way. Bullets pelted his side, eliciting a pained grunt, enough to disrupt the flow of his weakened powers. Dust clouded the room and filled the Conduits' lungs, and more bullets prompted them to duck down under cover. Abruptly a thick chunk of rock came flying at him through the dust, and by sheer luck alone Delsin managed to jump aside, letting it fly past him and slam into the wall.

When the cloud cleared, Augustine wasn't sitting on the couch anymore.

Delsin swore, and heard the vague sound of guns being reloaded. He struggled to breathe, through the dirty air and the exhaustion caused by the violent attack on Augustine. To his side, Fetch leaned up over the edge of the chair she used as cover, and pink light fired from her palms, causing the bodyguards to duck back under cover. "Delsin," came a breathy voice, and to his surprise Eugene became re-visible at the Bannerman's side. "Let's get out of here."

The younger Rowe scowled and ducked behind a corner as a spray of bullets flew through the air beside him. "What about Augustine?" he hissed.

The geek shook his head. "We can't. Not now."

Lacking the time or the place for a better explanation, Delsin released a frustrated sigh. Then his eyes widened. "Reggie!" he shouted, trying to be heard over the lasers and gunfire. "Reg, where are you?" The dust was starting to clear, but the man couldn't catch sight of his brother.

Eugene disappeared again. Feeling his energy return to him, Delsin leapt out from behind cover, racing towards a cluster of bodyguards, his chains unwrapping from around his wrists. He flung the links of searing, smoking metal into the torsos of the bodyguards, sending them toppling to the ground with ashy marks in their armor. "Reg!" he shouted again. Then a thick arm wrapped around his throat. He felt himself being lifted off the ground, his windpipe constricting. A choked noise escaped him, and smoke poured from his skin in a panic as he clawed at the arm around his throat.

The dust cloud parted. Reggie was sitting in a corner mostly in cover. His hand was pressed to his hip, like he expected a gun to be there, and found nothing. He looked up, and across the room, he saw Delsin, currently being choked out by a thickly built bodyguard.

Horrible, gnawing helplessness made his chest tighten. His fingers kept gripping the fabric on his hip, thinking if he reached long enough a gun would appear. Fear made his heart pound and skin sweat. Delsin stared at him desperately, thrashing against the bodyguard, unable to dash or fight given the lack of air to his brain and his weakened abilities. More gunfire filled the air, sinking into the antique cushions of the furniture. Pink rays of light pierced the chests of the bodyguards. An invisible figure attacked the bodyguards with a pixelated sword. And Reggie sat cowering in a corner.

The color of Delsin's face changed, and his flailing weakened. His eyes fell shut, just as a burst of light pelted the bodyguard in the temple, causing him to drop the Conduit and jerk away, staggering. As Delsin collapsed to the floor, coughing and wheezing for breath, more light pierced the bodyguard's helmet until he slumped limply against the wall.

The majority of their opponents eliminated, the group took this as their chance to flee. Rosy light circled the Conduit, and Fetch hefted him over her shoulder, dragging him out of the building as fast as she could. Eugene flickered back into sight in a cloud of blue pixels, and Reggie sprinted after them, instinctively flinched away from the bullets behind him. They ran out to the black fence and left the same way they came in, gasping for breath as they disappeared into the city, darkness swallowing them and the light of the governor's mansion fading far behind them.

Augustine watched them through an upstairs window as they fled.

* * *

**I have discovered a new favorite thing - listening to the Infamous: Second Son soundtrack as I write. It really helps me get in the mood. I guess listening to themed music as you write is no great revelation, but it's a new thing I'm trying, and it seems to be working.**

**In any case. More dramatic things. Fighting and powers and character development. I'm curious - do you guys have any theories as to the greater story in play here? What are Delsin and Reggie's dreams about? Why was Betty being weird before? ****Why does the woman, who helped Augustine out of prison, want the Rowe brothers dead? **

**Feel free to post your theories in the reviews. Who knows? You might get it right. And if you do, you have full bragging rights. :P**


	10. Domestic Silence

"Damn it!" Delsin shouted. A burning, popping cloud of smoke clouded up under it palms and feet, rippling out over the grass. The cinders seethed and burned the damp, cool grass, and as the sun rose up over the horizon orange light peeked through the growing bloom of ash rising around Delsin.

"D, stop," Fetch said, taking a step towards the man.

"No!" Another wave of smoke and flame made the grass under his feet shiver and crumble into ash. Delsin glared at the pink-haired woman approaching him, striding over to her and pointing an angry finger at her chest. "No, I won't stop! She was right there. Right! There! And I let her fucking start shit. I let her finish it! And we fucking ran, like little, fucking, bitches." Heat poured from his skin, the warm brown of his complexion swirled with black smoke.

"What other choice did we have?" Fetch retorted, taking a step forward, raising her chin to meet the taller mans' gaze. Bright, flickering lights shone in her eyes and hair, glowing on her fingertips as she moved chest to chest with the Akomish man. "What, fucking let her kill us? Let her capture us? You have to fucking think, D. We shouldn't have even gone there in the first place. We're tired, we're outnumbered, and we're outgunned." She threw up her hands, scowling. "We went into a fight we couldn't win, and we lost. Big fuckin' deal."

"We could have won," Delsin growled, and heat blew in Fetch's face, bright flames burning in the Conduit's dark eyes. "We could have! If we had actually tried instead of running away, giving up - there's always a way, damn it!"

"No! No, there isn't!" Fetch shouted. Her body pulsed with pink light, and her clothes and hair became unaffected by gravity, floating in the air as more energy and light emanated from her. "There's not always going to be a win, Delsin. Sometimes you can't win, no matter how many powers you have, no matter how goddamn special you are. Sometimes, you just have to give up!"

"Well, I can't!" Smoke balled up around Delsin's hands, and he curled his hand into a fist, pulling it back as anger and heat boiled inside him.

Seeing Delsin's hand lift, fist held up like he was about to punch her, made all the light in Fetch dissipate. Almost instantly, her energy faded, making her clothes and hair go back to reality. Her light died, and suddenly Delsin's smoke enveloped her, a dark, thick cloud that swirled around her, absorbing her into it's depths.

Eugene, standing alongside Reggie some feet away, ran forward a few steps, eyes wide and mouth open. But a hand quickly placed on his bicep held him back. Eugene turned, and saw Reggie shaking his head. Reggie nodded back to the combative pair, and when Eugene looked again, the black cloud of smoke was fading away.

Delsin and Fetch were standing in the middle of the cloud, but Delsin had lowered his hand. His head had bowed, and Fetch was slowly, slowly backing away from him, as the darkness around her cleared. Eyes still wide, the light Conduit spoke in a whisper. "Delsin?"

The Bannerman didn't say anything for several minutes. Then, in a hoarse voice, he muttered something about going inside. He turned, and slowly tromped up the wooden stairs and entered the Longhouse. After escaping Augustine, Eugene had summoned some angels and brought the group back here, for lack of any other home base. But now he wasn't so sure.

Fetch still stood in the middle of the grass ledge that sat in front of the Longhouse, with Reggie and Eugene hovering off to the side. The woman - girl, almost - looked shaken. "He was gonna hit me," she whispered. "He was gonna hit me."

Eugene walked over, footsteps slow and quiet on the grass as the sun rose over the horizon. "...Come on, Fetch," he murmured. "We need to sleep."

Still not in her right mind, Fetch let herself be led into the Longhouse by Eugene's careful hand. This left Reggie alone outside, watching the sunrise. He knelt down on the grass, feeling the cold melt away from his skin as the morning sun supplied it's warmth.

His mind kept going back to Delsin's face, when he had been choked by Augustine's henchmen. He could see, in graphic detail, the life being taken from his brother's body. He could see the growing weakness, the flailing that slowed, and slowed, until Delsin was almost limp in the man's arms, tanned face then a sickly shade. He _hated _it. He hated being the older brother, the one that was supposed to protect his family, and not being able to do his job. Not being able to do what he had to.

Distantly, Reggie heard the sounds of the ocean, crashing against the rocks down on the beach below the ledge. The older Rowe stood up, and started walking.

* * *

Delsin woke up sometime after noon the next day. His tongue tasted disgusting, and grime covered his teeth. Crust pooled in the corners of his eyes, and he felt covered in filth and sweat. But he didn't feel like a shower today. He rarely did, anymore - smoke and water didn't really mix. It left him feeling suffocated. So instead, he staggered to the bathroom and splashed water on his face before heading out into the kitchen.

A lukewarm, half-empty pot of coffee sat abandoned in the coffee maker. Delsin downed what was left, then dared going out into the den, where he knew, and dreaded, his inevitable reception.

As expected, Fetch and Eugene both stared at him when he walked in. Fetch looked oddly subdued, her normally casual, brash exterior replaced by a quiet, blank one. A cup, stained with brown with some coffee grinds at the bottom, sat on the table beside her. Eugene had a laptop balanced on his knees, and the hands that had been flying over the keyboard seconds ago halted at his appearance. Delsin swallowed. "Hey." He searched for a follow-up, something, anything to relieve the tension. "Where's Reggie?"

Fetch looked away, dropping her eyes. Eugene cleared his throat. "He, uh, he didn't come in after us. I think I saw him down by the rocks earlier."

Delsin nodded, staring down at his feet. Eugene made an attempt to type, but the sound of the keyboard seemed too irreverent, too unnatural in the tense silence. "...I'm sorry. About yesterday." Delsin spoke up, his voice hoarse, just as it had been when he first went into the Longhouse.

Fetch lifted her head, eyes watching him from under a tuft of pink hair. Her roots were starting to show. "You should be."

Delsin swallowed, grimacing. "I know. I know. I just..." He looked down again, kicking his feet into the floor. "...No, I don't have an excuse. I'm sorry. I shouldn't...I shouldn't have even thought about...hitting you." The words didn't want to come out. The last two felt too...filthy, too foreign. Just saying them, just imaging what couldn't have happened just a few hours ago, when he was blinded by anger and pain and fire...it made him sick.

More heavy silence descended the room. Then, slowly, Fetch stood up, making her old chair creak. She shuffled over to the Akomish man, and one arm reached out, gently taking his hand. Delsin let her hold it, and looked up from his shoes, meeting her eyes with more than a little shame in his own. He reached up, brushing a few pink hairs behind her ear, before pulling her in for a hug, wrapping his much longer arms around her. Fetch returned the hug, her smaller limbs settling around his middle, and they both closed their eyes.

After a few seconds of hugging, they reluctantly pulled apart. Another brief look into each others eyes affirmed they were okay, and the moment ended. Fetch took several steps back, placing her hands behind her, and sat back down in her chair, leaving Delsin to join Eugene on the couch. "...So. Angel." He said, clearing his throat. His legs stretched over the edge of the couch, and he laced his hands behind his head. "What are you working on?"

Eugene, who may have blushed a little bit when seeing the emotional hug, reached up to pull his hoodie down over his face. Midway before doing so, however, his pale hand relaxed back onto the keyboard, and he let out a slow exhale. "Well...you remember yesterday? When I uh, was on my phone in A-Augustine's place?"

"Yeah."

"Well," the teen began, "what actually happened, while you guys were doing your...stuff, was that I managed to get a scan of Augustine's anklet."

"Which helps us...how?" Delsin continued, raising an eyebrow.

"The anklet uses tracking technology. The people that watch the anklet know that it's Augustine they're watching, so they have access to her personal data, what she has access to, and what she doesn't. That kind of thing. So, I get into her anklet, I can use that to get into her other personal files, and with a little effort...I managed to get a, well, I guess you could call it a 'sample' of her clearance. Basically, I know the code that can get us into all those encrypted files about Conduit experimentation and stuff."

Delsin and Fetch gave each other a look. "'Gene, that's amazing," Fetch said, grinning at the teenager. "So, is this actually what we've been looking for? Is this what we need?"

"It is exactly what we need." The geek seemed more than a little proud of himself. "Just say the word, and I can get you whatever we need to know." He paused. "I-I'll need to do some research, first, of course, but I can, uh, get us everything."

"More illegal things?" All three Conduit heads snapped up at the intrusion of a fourth voice. Betty stood in the doorway of the room, hobbling into it with a smile. With the kind of grunting sigh only old people can give, she came in and sat down in the nearest chair.

"More illegal things," Delsin affirmed, smiling back at the older woman. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not all all. What are we doing?"

"'Gene got us into some computer things. He says we're finally going to get some answers," Fetch explained.

Betty, who had up until now looked as cheerful as ever, changed. Her smile twitched, though it didn't quite falter, and her eyes took on a hint of glassiness they had lacked before. "Is that so?" The pleasant sound of her voice, which hadn't changed at all, seemed more unnerving when coming from her altered expression.

Delsin and Fetch glanced at each other. A few glances passed between them. Fetch eyed him pointedly, pursing her lips and glancing at Betty, who was watching them carefully, and Delsin scowled back, mouthing something Fetch didn't quite catch. Finally, Delsin swallowed, and turned back to Betty with a forced smile. "Say, Betty, heh," he began, forcing a positivity he did not feel, "are you feeling alright?"

Again with the flicker. Some nervousness, something unsure, showed through her chipper exterior. But before it stayed around too long, Betty scoffed, shaking her head and waving a maternal, patronizing hand in Delsin's direction. "Me? Oh, sweetheart. I never feel alright. It's what happens when you get to be my age. But don't you worry about me."

"Oh my god." Eugene's sudden outburst drew the attention of everyone in the room. If Fetch or Delsin had been paying attention, they would have noticed Betty's sudden paleness, the anxious expression she wore when the teen spoke.

"What?" Delsin asked. His throat suddenly felt dry. Eugene's eyes lifted, and he stared at Delsin with a horror the Akomish man wasn't expecting, nor had ever experienced. It was a mixture of horror, fascination, disgust, and pity. A cocktail of emotions Delsin did not like. "_What_?" he demanded, heart thumping in his chest. What did he read? What was so awful? Why was Eugene looking at him like he was a monster?

"D-Delsin..." Eugene stuttered, his eyes going between the computer screen and the man beside him. "I...you...you won't believe this."

"Just tell me!" Delsin shouted. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead.

Eugene opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly there was a tumble, and everyone looked to see Betty having tripped over the laptop cord, unplugging it from the wall with one mis-stepped slipper. "Oh, goodness," she said, raising a wrinkled hand to her mouth. "I'm so sorry. Look, let me just -"

"To hell with that," Fetch growled, and suddenly she stood up, appearing at Betty's side in a burst of thick pink light, light darker than usual. She glared daggers at the old woman, who stumbled backward, thin arms held in front of her and eyes wide with fear. "She's been nothing but weird since we started this whole fucking thing," Fetch spat. "Ever since we talking about getting answers, she's been lying to us. Hiding things from us. Haven't you? Haven't you!" Her voice grew in volume, ending in an angry shout.

"Fetch!" Delsin shouted, and he jumped to her side, grabbing her and wrenching her away from Betty, currently backed against the wall and shaking in fear. Fetch jerked away from Delsin's touch, her skin glowing a bright, violent pink. "Don't you dare hurt her!"

"Why shouldn't I?" Fetch snarled, pushing on Delsin's chest. She shoved him away, and again they stood chest to chest, much like they had several hours ago. "You know I'm right! She-" Here Fetch pointed an accusing finger at Betty, "-has been nothing but a loose end. You know it! The first we mentioned Conduits and experimentation, and all that bullshit, _you _were the one that said she was being weird! So don't you _dare _tell me this isn't even worse! She fucking sabotaged Eugene's computer, for Christ's sake!"

"Because she's Betty!" Delsin shouted. Then he blinked, and seemed to acknowledge that wasn't much of a defense. But he pressed on, albeit less impassioned than the woman in front of him. "Fetch, we can't...we can't just, interrogate her."

"Why not?" Fetch demanded stubbornly.

"Because...because she's Betty," was all Delsin could manage. He stared at Fetch, pleading with her to understand, trying to get across everything he couldn't say, everything that Betty meant to him. "She has to have a reason," he whispered. "She has to."

While this intense argument was going on, Eugene found himself staring at the thin, wrinkled woman cowering in the corner of the room. "You know, don't you?" he said.

This quieted the two young adults arguing, and slowly, everyone turned to stare at the woman. Betty flinched under their eyes. "...Yes. I know." Then she seemed to regain some of her composure, and she stood up from her terrified position, looking more tired and resigned than anything else. "I'm sorry for unplugging your computer, son," she murmured. "But I'm a desperate old woman, and desperate old women do stupid things sometimes. Especially for the people they care about." She looked up at Delsin, pleading for his understanding the same way he had just pleaded with Fetch.

But Fetch was having none of it. "Just sit down and start talking," she growled, gesturing to the chair Betty had only moments ago reclined in. Betty nodded, eyes downcast, and took her seat, under the eyes of the Conduits.

"I don't know what all you were looking at," Betty murmured, "but I can give you my side of the story."

"Please, do," Fetch grumbled, scowling and crossing her arms. Delsin glared at her, but his expression softened when he turned back to the woman in the chair, who suddenly looked decades older. He knelt down in front of her, taking her small, bony hands in his own, and looking up at her.

"Betty," he said, voice low. "Please don't...please don't." _Don't be a monster. Don't be cruel. Don't say I'm a monster. Please be the person I love, the person I want, I need you to be. Please._

Betty looked up to meet the eyes of the man - the boy, really, compared to her - kneeling in front of her. Delsin found her eyes glimmered with tears. "Delsin," she whispered, voice choked. "I'm so, so sorry. I should have told you a long time ago. You and Reggie."

Chills ran down Delsin's spine. "Told me what, Betty?"

The woman took a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know what all you know, who all you've talked to. In case you don't, there was a man, named Kessler-"

"We know him." Delsin could feel himself shaking, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Anxiety pumped frost into his blood, made him stiff and unable to budge. The only heat in his body was from Betty's palms, currently held in his own.

"If you know him, then you'll know what it means when I say...you're his son."

* * *

**Here's your chapter for Thanksgiving. Hope you guys have/had a good one! And if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving or you're reading this when Thanksgiving is long gone/yet to come, I hope you guys have/had a good day. **

**Also I just handed you guys a massive twist so if you could review and supply me with your emotions that would be muy bueno. Your joy/heartbreak/etc when reading my stories makes my day, and I figure this is something to talk about. Have at it!**


	11. The Truth Revealed

"What?" Delsin recoiled. "Betty, that- that makes no sense. I'm from the tribe! My _parents_ were from the tribe!"

"They weren't your-" The old woman stopped, and deflated. "They weren't your birth parents, Delsin. Your _mother _was from the tribe. Your father..."

"Tell us what happened, Betty," Eugene murmured. His hands sat in white-knuckle fists atop the keyboard.

Betty closed her eyes, and nodded.

"Your mother was having a hard time with money, years before you were born. She heard about medical trials being conducted by a group called the First Sons, which offered a great deal of money for people to come in and undergo some standard tests. Something about some new brand of pills. The tribe offered to help her out. _I _offered to give her a place to stay, but she didn't want charity." She paused, then spoke softer. "She was stubborn like that.

"But after those drug trials, they said she 'qualified' for further testing, and she never came back. Instead, two years later, we got two babies dropped on our doorstep, names included. Reggie and Delsin. The man who dropped them off wore a strange mask and hood, and had a voice I'll never forget. He said his name was Kessler, and that you two were his sons. He said your mother had passed away, and that he was giving care of you to us. It was all very odd, but he was so intense, so intimidating. We did as we were asked. We couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible would happen to us if we said no.

"There was a couple in our tribe at the time that was having trouble with fertility. They'd been having treatments, but couldn't seem to have a baby of their own. They decided to take on the babies. We didn't know what to do, and just tried to get them officially adopted, but once we started the paperwork it turned out that... someone else, had already done it. Probably that Kessler man. He arranged for the adoption to be legal - even _untraceable_. No one would know that you weren't your parents' children. And we kept it that way for years.

"I did my best to shield you from the First Sons and from Kessler. I was worried, once all this bio-terrorist nonsense started up, that it'd have something to do with you. And after you got your powers, I thought... I knew it would come to this. But I tried so hard to protect you. Both of you," she finished, staring pleading at both men.

The room fell silent, Delsin and Reggie unwilling to offer any words of comfort or forgiveness. Eugene raised a tentative finger. "If I may..." With the group's attention, he began reading off his computer. "That further testing? I think... I think I know what that was. The First Sons were the ones who created the... the Ray Sphere, the device that caused the blast years ago. But. While that was going on, they were conducting tests, trying to find out how the Conduit gene worked and if they could mutate or alter it in some way.

"Those drug tests were a front to find people with the Conduit gene. Delsin and Reggie's mother - birth mother, I guess - was one of those people. She ended up being the one they took and experimented on. Kessler, the then-leader of the First Sons, wanted to create artificial Conduits. He wanted to see if you could purposefully change or strengthen the gene, and wanted to create people - test tube babies - with that altered gene."

Eugene's eyes flickered across the page, reading faster than he could think. "Two eggs from Nicky Begay, from the Akomish tribe in Seattle, were taken and inseminated using DNA from a variety of hosts, through mostly using DNA from Kessler. The first child, codenamed Project Last Hope, was a failure. The Conduit gene was weak and inactive, and would likely remain inactive for the rest of the child's life. Without invasive testing, the gene would appear absent."

Eugene scrolled down. "The second child, however, codenamed "Second Son," was inseminated using a different tactic. By that point, development on the Ray Sphere was progressing well. Kessler chose to implement some Ray Sphere technology in the creation of the second child. As a result, Project Second Son inherited many aspects of the Ray Sphere. Instead of just gaining one power upon realization of the gene, the second child would be able to absorb the powers of whatever Conduit he interacted with.

"Nicky Begay died during experimentation following the successful creation of Project Second Son. Before her death, Begay named the sons Reggie and Delsin respectively, and refused to call them by their codenames. When the children were rehomed, they retained their initial names. Until the near-annihilation of the First Sons by Cole MacGrath, the Akomish tribe and the two boys were regularly monitored by the organization."

Eugene cleared his throat. "A lot of it is, uh, code and government, um, stuff. I condensed it. It's, uh. Yeah."

"So..." Reggie parted his lips, curling his hands into soft fists and holding them to his face. "Why did my... gene... activate?"

"Stress?" Eugene said, nervously picking at his fingernails. "Maybe it was a defense mechanism. Maybe if you hadn't a-almost drowned, you would never have become a Conduit at all."

"No, hold on a minute-" Fetch held up a hand, eyes screwed up and her face contorted in anger. "We're not even going to talk about this? This Kessler asshole tortured you guys's mother, used her _eggs _to make fake magic babies, and your grandma's been keeping this secret for years and this is _fine_?"

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Fetch?" Delsin exploded. He'd been silent since Betty first opened her mouth, sitting against the arm of the couch with his knees pulled to his chest. This time, he jumped to his feet, shaking and swearing. "What else am I supposed to say! This happened years ago! My mom- my mom's _dead_, she was always dead. This Kessler guy is dead. Reggie's not dead, but now he's got water powers and anxiety. And now Augustine's out of fucking _prison_! This isn't normal! Nothing's normal! I don't know what to do!"

He ran out of things to say after that, and found himself looming over Fetch, arms raised high with a manic expression on his face. Delsin realized everyone was staring at him, and he deflated, letting his arms fall to his sides. "I don't know what to do," he finished quietly.

Fetch opened her mouth to speak, when a sharp knock came at the front door. Everyone froze, eyes darting to the door. A few seconds later, the knock came again.

Betty rose from her chair, deathly calm. "I'll get it," she said. She hobbled to the front door, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and her thin lips pressed together in a resolute line. She undid the latch, and turned the knob the open the door a crack, peeking out at the person on the porch.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

Then she stumbled back with a cry as the person pushed open the door, flinging it open so it came around and slammed into the wall. A man dressed in heavy, black, government armor entered the room. The black helmet on his head concealed his face behind a tinted visor. As he lifted his gun, all around the house windows shattered and the heavy footsteps of stomping reinforcements rattled the floorboards.

"Betty!" Reggie jerked forward to the old woman's side as Delsin charged forward, sparking with rage and cinder. He reappeared in front of the agent, smoking hands placed on the other man's chest. With a burst of force, he pushed out, and the agent flew backwards, stumbling off the porch and rolling down the hill.

Delsin whipped around to see Reggie helping Betty to her feet. "Get her out of here," he said, jabbing a commanding finger at them. "We've got you."

The three of them coordinated efforts, but the house was cramped and full of cover. They made it to the porch, Eugene staying invisible to summon his angels in secret. But more soldiers came, with their rifles and pistols and faceless helms. Delsin's attacks made the grass twist and blacken as his heat seared the earth. Fetch zipped over walls and roofs and landed on soldiers' shoulders, pelting them with blinding laser blasts.

The longhouse grew riddled with bullet holes, wooden walls speckled with ugly, black pockmarks. Reggie and Betty cowered off to the side, trying to inch their way down the hill, to the beach, to a bus stop, to anything. Reggie felt a bullet graze his hip, and cried out. Betty stopped, turning to him in terror. Reggie lifted the hem of his shirt, looked for the blood and wound. Instead, he watched as his skin healed and the thin wound closed without a scar. He shivered.

"How many of you _are _there?" Fetch demanded, frustrated. No matter how many soldiers they shot or burnt or slashed with video game swords, they either got back up or more appeared. "Delsin! Grab one of them and see if you can figure out where they came from!"

Delsin nodded and put his hands together, thumbs side by side and palms facing out at the nearest soldier. A hot gush of black smoke erupted from the center of his hands, throwing the man back against the ground. Delsin dashed over while the agent was still unconscious and yanked off the helmet. He recoiled at what he saw.

The man's face was pale, with dark veins running up through his cheeks and around his eyes. Dark tar oozed from his lips and covered his mouth, dripping down his chin and heading for his chest. "Fetch?" Delsin shouted, taking a few staggering steps away from the body, watching in horror as it groaned and began to rise with unfocused eyes. "Fetch, I think we need to get out of here!"

"_No!_" Reggie's pained voice pierced the air, drawing everyone's eyes. Everyone on the hill froze. No one breathed. The only sound left was the faint clink of the soldiers adjusting their guns and the smoldering of burning grass beneath Delsin's feet.

Tears glimmered in Betty's eyes. "Don't," she breathed, as the faceless soldier pressed the barrel of his gun to her temple. "Please."

Delsin quavered. He looked to Fetch. She stared back at him with wild, worried eyes, waiting for his call. Reggie let himself be grabbed by another soldier, forced to his knees with a gun barrel pointed at the back of his skull. Eugene, standing off to the side, clutching his backpack to his chest, his eyes wide behind the lenses of his glasses. Betty dared to beg, but there was still resolution in her eyes. Still pride. She gave Delsin a single, near-imperceptible nod, and closed her eyes.

"I..." The Bannerman trembled. The smoke in his hands doused. The burning sound and smell stopped. His chin fell to his chest, strands of hair dangling from his beanie, and he put his hands out. "We surrender."

The tar-mouthed soldiers approached, clapping handcuffs over their wrists that stifled their abilities. Betty was left behind, shoved into the longhouse and left to stare after them through one of the shattered windows. The four Conduits were shoved into a D.U.P van, sandwiched in between a handful of those dead-eyed soldiers. Someone went around the van to the driver's seat. The engine hummed. And the car rolled forward with a lurch, taking them somewhere else.

Delsin dared to look up, and met Fetch's questioning eyes. Eyes that begged for an explanation, or at least some kind of reassurance.

The Akomish man stared back at her sadly. "Sometimes you can't win, Fetch."

The van was silent for the rest of the drive.

* * *

Augustine watched from the cozy ranger's cabin a few miles away from the longhouse. The drones flying high in the air gave her a good view of the fighting without revealing her presence. Her eyes scanned the low-res television screens displaying the results of Sasha's soldiers.

She was rather proud of her idea of threatening Betty. The Rowe brothers did have a weakness for that old woman. The mind-controlled soldiers weren't quick on the uptake, but they took orders well enough if you worded them right. Perhaps she'd have more uses for them in future.

For now, Sasha wanted her turn with the brothers. Brooke didn't care what happened to Abigail or Eugene. They were inconsequential. No, this was about Delsin. And Reggie, too. Had to finish the job as a point of pride. Sasha would see them into the compound, would give her little monologue and get whatever she wanted out of them. Brooke just wanted to see the corpses. Then she'd be satisfied.

A delicate rap came at her office door. At her command, it opened, and a thin, nervous sort of man with dark glasses and a clipboard leaned inside. "Ms. Augustine," he said, with the twitch of someone drinking too much coffee. "We need to leave now."

"Yes, yes." Brooke rose, brushing herself off. It felt good to be back in her normal clothes. No more repulsive orange jumpsuits and unkempt hair. She was back, in full form. And she had PR work to do. "I'll be there in a moment."

The clipboard man left. All the big news outlets were in uproar over Delsin's ill-timed invasion. It wouldn't be difficult to turn this against him. Make him look like an unhinged terrorist, doing this out of vengeance instead of any kind of moral calling. He may have gotten the city on his side before, but with Sasha keeping him trapped and unable to defend himself, she could spin this any way she wanted.

And this time, she wouldn't lose.


End file.
